Destroyed
by Liz1986
Summary: Angel&Collins, maybe Mark&OC. He betrayed his lover... his lover is left to pick up the pieces... their lives are destroyed. But is there new romance in the air? No day but today... WARNING rating will be updated later for: rape, violence, language
1. Chapter 1

**Destroyed… rebuilt?**

**SUMMARY: An adulterous affair destroyed him. It broke his lover. He flees New York. His lover is left to pick up the pieces and move on. Time passes. Love doesn't. He must return, and face the one he dreads to face, the one who he had betrayed. Old feelings, old resentments, old chances are revisited and the decision comes to pass… what is a destroyed lover supposed to do?**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from RENT; they belonged to Mr. Jonathan Larson and passed onto his estate upon his death. In other words, they aren't mine. **

* * *

He stared deep into what he thought was an abyss. A never ending darkness that seemed to swallow everything it touched, and now nothingness surrounded his heart; his mind; his soul… it wasn't fair. His love had been so deep and pure, that he thought it could never be matched, and only reciprocated by the one person he saw as his equal and his only one. But apparently, nothing ever is as it seems – and nothing is ever as deep as it could be, not when there is so much injustice and difference in what makes an imperfect world. Still. It had been good while it lasted. Breathtakingly amazing in fact. And now it was gone.

But the abyss what he thought was actually looking into was nothing more than the refrigerator as he stood there, deciding what to drink out of the few contents that remained. His eyes were empty… dead. No life remained in what once was such a lively and happy being, and that's what was the most disturbing of all, because he was no longer the same person. Time seemed to stop and actually tick backwards, for there was no sound but the constant ticking of the clock on the wall, with each tick digging a deeper hole in his heart.

It was warm Sunday night, in what was turning out to be a moderately warm May, and for the past month life just seemed to disappear before him, including his own. Now, what remained was the remnants of a broken heart; a shredded soul; a destroyed man – just a body, without breath; a spirit with no sense of direction, as if it were standing in nothing but purgatory and being sentenced to an eternity of nothingness. He was too innocent for hell, yet too damaged for heaven, and now he lingered in limbo forever because the one person who he believed was destined to share their lives intertwined with, had decided that he no longer wanted what was once so special. No matter what, nothing was the same.

"SHIT!" he cried, as his fingers caught in the door after he pulled the jug of milk. The pain shot through his body faster than a bullet, and he dropped the glass jug, which shattered into pieces upon sudden impact with the cold floor. In a metaphoric nutshell, it was the final nail in the coffin – his heart shattered against the cold, hard reality of everything.  
He burst into tears and fell against the fridge door, sliding to the floor and pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs, sobbing. A new wave of emotion suddenly overcame him, which happened periodically. Sometimes he would be okay, sometimes he would be like stone, and other times he would just be a total car wreck, mangled beyond recognition. For his friends, he was not the same person he once was and that scared them more than everything.

"FUCKING HELL!" he screamed, tears streaming down his face that seemed to have aged ten years overnight as each night passed. Carelessly, he slammed his already sore hand into the floor, sending even worse pain through him but he seemed not to notice very much. For him, the emotional pain would be forever greater and forever present – would he be able to forgive the betrayal, the deception? That was not a question he was prepared to answer now, or at anytime in the near future. As much as his lover had apologized, begged, and pleaded; cried, fell to his knees, or screamed for forgiveness, showing so much remorse – he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He had given his lover everything, and then suddenly the trust was broken – no honesty, no trust… the love was still there, but that was not enough anymore.

Sobbing openly in the small, empty apartment, his pain echoed around him and reverberated the coldness of his environment that was seemingly uncaring to the agony that had befallen him.

_Knock, knock_

_Shit… _he thought upon realization that someone was knocking at the door. _Go away… whoever it is._ He didn't move at all and just remained in his curled up spot in front of the refrigerator, in a puddle of milk and broken glass.

_Knock, knock_

He still didn't move, and squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for whoever it was to just fuck off and leave him alone to die in his own grief.

"Go away, go away, go away, go away…" he muttered under his breath.

_Knock, knock, knock_

Still, he did not move.

_BANG, BANG, BANG_

He jumped slightly at the sudden intensity that the person erupted in, banging on the door, furiously. He opened his eyes and looked up in the direction of the door, but made no attempts to move… whoever it was could just knock all day if they wanted, he still wasn't going to answer to no one… for fear it would be him, the former lover.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" came a voice, muffled by the locked door. But he knew who it was, immediately recognizing who the voice belonged to. Mimi Marquez.

"FUCK OFF!" he yelled, still not wanting to open it. As much as he loved Mimi, he really wasn't in the mood to see anyone, and didn't care if he hurt their feelings in the process. He just didn't care now. For all that he once cared for was now broken and lying there with him, in that puddle of milk and the shattered glass. In every tear; in every sob… he just didn't care.

"SWEETIE, OPEN UP!" Mimi called back, really worrying about her friend. "COME ON!"

"YEAH, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" came another, deep voice. Roger Davis.

_Great,_ he thought. _The whole damn Calvary has arrived._

"I SAID FUCK OFF!" he just yelled back, releasing his grip around his legs and straightening them out in front him. His pants were now soaking in milk, and he could feel the glass underneath him, but yet still could not find the strength; the energy to move. He just wanted to die.

"Leave me alone!"

"Honey!" came a fainter voice. Maureen Johnson. "Please open the door, we're worried!"

"WORRY SOMEWHERE ELSE!" He yelled back – the sorrow was now replaced with a sudden rush of anger.  
Then, the door burst open and he jumped in shock as five people came rushing into the apartment, one right after the other. Roger, Mimi, Maureen, Joanne Jefferson, and Mark Cohen (with his camera in tow, as usual).

Roger's eyes quickly scanned the small area, and came to a stop when he saw a huge mess in the kitchen. His eyes widened.

"Oh fuck…" he heard Mark mutter behind him, and Mimi's lip began to quiver as she saw her friend in the terrible state he was in. It brought tears to her eyes when she saw her once astoundingly bright, cheerful friend, was now an empty void. The darkness in his eyes, the dryness of his skin, the puddle of milk he was sitting in.

"Wow…"

"Dear God," Joanne whispered. The apartment was trashed, and it looked like there was a weeks worth of dishes in the sink, and he looked like he hadn't showered in that long too. They all rushed to where he was, and Mimi knelt down next to him and flung her arms around him… he barely responded, and closed his eyes again and silently prayed that they would just leave him alone.

"Oh my God…" she cried. "What's happened to you, Angel?"

**MEANWHILE**

Collins stared out of the window in his moderately sized office, on the MIT campus, just thinking. It had been three months since Angel had found out about the cheating, and kicked his ass to the curb, and still to this day, he didn't know what possessed him to betray his one true love, and would never forgive himself for any of it. The affair had lasted a month, and Samuel was the one who initiated it– Collins never felt right about it, but he had lost his job with New York University because he wasn't teaching the students the set curriculum, and couldn't bear to tell Angel that they would probably lose their apartment, so he went out a drank. For quite a few nights. Anything beyond that, he couldn't remember… but soon, the sex had become intoxicating, something that could briefly drain all his problems away. But nothing beat the love he made with Angel, but guilt had overtaken him by then… after a month, Angel had gone to look for Collins at a bar that he frequented with Roger on a regular basis, and found his love and a complete stranger having sex in one of the back rooms… and Collins then confessed it all. Understandable, Angel was devastated and kicked Tom Collins out…

A week after Angel kicked his ass out, he was asked back by MIT, and he didn't hesitate in accepting it… he needed to get away from Angel, and although his friends tried to convince him to stay, and as much as he wanted to stay for them, it was just too hard. He could barely live with himself anymore, so it would be just too hard to stay.

Angel would never forgive him that he knew… and he would never forgive himself for what he had done, and despite their protests of him leaving, he knew that none of them would forgive him for what he did to Angel.

_Knock, knock_

He looked up and shook himself out of his thoughts, trying to regain his composure. "Yeah?" he called.

The door opened, and a young woman walked in, cautiously. Professor Collins had been working there for almost two months now, and he definitely had a way with his students. He was charismatic, charming, very intelligent, and very attentive to all his students. He was already regaining his reputation of never turning away a student when he or she was in need.

"Professor Collins?"

"Julia," he greeted, sighing and standing up, giving her a small smile.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all. Come in."

She did and closed the door behind her, clutching several heavy-looking books to her chest. He walked around from behind his desk to help her with her books, and she responded with a grateful smile and a soft 'thank you'.

"Not a problem," he replied, and placed the books on the corner of his desk, before gesturing for her to sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. Julia Sampson was, without a doubt, one of his brightest students… if not _the _brightest. He didn't know what it was, but he and she had an instant rapport. In class, she listened to his every word, and was the most participating student, and she always offered to help him out when needed… they had become friends even. The 22-year-old blonde Texan was studying the Arts, and she was an A+ student.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Professor—" she started to say as she sat down, but he held up his hand to silence her.

"Please. Tom." He insisted. Collins always liked to keep things casual between him and his students, which is perhaps why his students really liked him.

"Okay," she replied. "I just was wondering if you could help me with this paper, I'm not sure which of the philosophers to actually research. Applying modern day accepted theories of social normalcy, comparing and contrasting them with the theories of the philosophers from different eras. I was just wondering—" she paused when she noticed her professor seemed kind of distracted, which was weird because Collins was, as mentioned, usually so attentive to his students.

"Prof—Tom? Are you okay?"

He looked up from what he was staring at, realizing that he had gotten lost in his thoughts and misery of losing his Angel, once more.

"Shit… oh, man I'm sorry, Julia," he sat up straight in his chair.

"Got a lot on your mind?" she asked. "I can come back later."

"No, no, that's ok. Just a bit of stress, that's all. Continue."

She studied him for a few moments, curious as to why he was so distant… not too many other students would've picked up on it, but she knew something was definitely on his mind.

"Wanna tell me about it?"

Collins smiled. "Nothin' you wanna here…"

"You may be surprised," she replied. She looked at the photo frame on his desk that he had been staring at, but wasn't really too surprised to see who was in the frame. She smiled slightly and picked it up, before Collins had any chance to react. Normally, if it were any other professor, she wouldn't have done it, but she and he seemed to connect well enough.

"Is this him?"

Collins heart leaped in his throat, as he was a very private person when it came to separating his professional and personal life. Not too many people would be tolerant of a gay professor, no matter how far society has generally come in terms of tolerance. So he wasn't about to go shouting his sexuality from the rooftop, but he was never ashamed of Angel… when they were together, they weren't afraid of public displays of affection. He tried to grab the photo of Angel (yes, he still had it on his desk), but she held it out of reach.

Trying to remain calm, he cleared his throat.

"Who?"

Julia looked up at him. "Your boyfriend."

Collins' eyes widened, his heart started to race, and he began to sweat, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Umm, what!"

"Professor, it's totally cool. I'm not gonna judge you. After all I thought you and I were cool. Relax. I mean, it's not like it's not hard to see… I knew you were gay. It's cool."

Her reassurance did calm him down a bit, and he was able to regain control of himself. "Uhh, yeah… Angel. He's umm," the thoughts of his now ex-lover, talking about him… it was too much. But he just couldn't bring himself to get rid of his image.

"He, uh… Julia, shall we get back to your paper?"

Julia could tell that something wasn't right, and decided to help. She and Collins were becoming good friends, despite MIT guidelines strictly forbidding personal relationships between professor and students, and for things to remain professional – but with them two, because of their bright minds and their willingness to learn, they just clicked. And I think there have been many of us who've had that one teacher or professor that we've connected with at one time or anything. She brushed stray strands of hair from her face.

"Tom, you wanna go get some coffee or something? Professor? You look like you need to get some things off your chest."

Collins thought about it… it was tempting. He needed to get out of that stuffy office anyway, so he just sighed and relented, nodding.

"Sure, sure," he replied, dejectedly. "Coffee would be great."

"Cool. I'll shout." She stood up and grabbed her books, with Collins helping her again.

"I can't ask you to do that—" he started.

"Why not?"

"Because you're my student and I'm you're teacher. I couldn't—"

"Professor," she interrupted, respectfully. "Tom… look, it's cool. It's just… you've helped me so much in these past few weeks, I want to. Come on, it may help to talk to a friend. I consider you a friend. Do you consider me one?"

He sighed again. "I do. And you're a bright student, Julia. But I got a procedure to adhere to…"

"It's not like I'm trying to get you into bed, not that it'd work anyway," she joked, getting a chuckle out of her professor.

"Well, I—"

"There are some things I need to ask you about the paper anyway, it may take a while. And I so need caffeine boost right now."

Collins looked out the window, thoughtfully, before looking back at the young student standing in front of him, looking at him expectantly. It might be nice to finally confide in someone other than his New York friends, despite the fact he hadn't talked to anyone since he left, except Joanne who had driven him to Massachusetts.

"Fine," he finally agreed, not wanting to debate with the intelligent woman. He grabbed his wallet and coat and followed her out of the office, stopping at his secretary's desk on the way out to tell her that he'd be out of the office and to patch any incoming calls to the cell phone the university had issued him upon his arrival.

**15 MINUTES LATER**

They sat in a small café in town. Collins sat silently, idly tapping the rim of his coffee cup with a teaspoon, wondering what to do… a part of him wanted to spill his guts to Julia, or anyone who was willing to listen. But then again, another part of him wanted to just shy away from the whole topic – he wanted to forget Angel, but he couldn't. Julia watched him, carefully, knowing that there was a fine line between him and her and their status' on campus. He didn't want to drag the honors' student into his mess, and he wasn't going to.

"So…" she began. "Wanna tell me about it?"

"No," he chuckled, focusing his eyes on the coffee cup. "Not really. But I supposed I have no choice… otherwise I'm gonna explode."

"Sounds serious."

"It is."

"You don't have to tell me—"

"I just don't want things to get difficult between us. You're my student, I'm your professor."

"I understand," she smiled and breathed in deeply. "But you just look like you wanna talk, that's all."

"I'm sorry if I wasn't paying attention to you," he had to apologize. "I try not to let my personal life get in the way of my professional obligations."

"No problem. So who's Angel?"

Collins cringed upon hearing the name that made his heart both flutter and break at the same time. There was nothing he wanted more than to be forgiven by the vivacious drag queen, to feel him in his arms again… to make love to him as they once used to. At that moment, he didn't know how his ex lover was coping – the last he had seen of him, Angel wasn't doing too well, and Joanne had told him that Angel wasn't coping, that he was falling increasingly depressed, which he tried to hide by remaining positive and as upbeat as he always was… but he couldn't hide it from his friends.

"Angel," Collins couldn't help but smile slightly when he said the name of the person who stole his heart.

"Angel Schunard… he was… my best friend. My lover. My everything." He knew he couldn't tell her the whole story, without giving away that Angel's a drag queen with AIDS, and that he had the illness as well. And that's the last thing he wanted to get out, even though he felt Julia was one of the only people on campus who he could trust.

"Go on…" she pressed, curious, but he shook his head.

"I can't. I'm sorry Julia, I know you care and only want to help… but there are private things… things that I don't think you should know about. It's very complicated. If it got out, I could lose my job."

That last remark peeked her interest for good. _Wow_, she thought. _This must be bad._

"Professor, I totally understand… but just so you know, your secrets are safe with me. I mean, I've confided in you more than my own parents, my own friends. I trust you, and you can trust me. It's cool to finally have someone I can really talk to… and you can talk to me."

"Thank you," he genuinely appreciated her concern. "It's just… there are things about me that you don't know. Disturbing things, if you will. That's why I'm as private as I am, you know? If things about me… about Angel… got out, that could mean the end of my career here."

"Is it that bad?" she asked. He nodded.

"It can be. Massachusetts is a conservative state…"

"I know you're gay, Professor."

"It's not just that," he sighed, and debated whether or not to tell her until the very last second, when he opened his mouth again.

"I have AIDS," he said in a softer tone, and Julia gasped, clamping her hand around her mouth, in shock. Not so much about the AIDS, but the fact that the word meant death to anyone who had it.

"No way!" she gushed, and Collins shushed her to keep her quiet.

"Yes way. So does Angel. And," he drew in a deep breath. "There's also something else to him… he's a drag queen."

"Wow." That hit Julia like a ton of bricks, making her wonder even more what had happened.

"Go on…" she set her books aside, giving him her full attention.

"About three and a half months ago I lost my job at NYU. Angel and I… and our friends… we were, what you'd consider… bohemians. And I had my Actual Reality theories, and labeled a vagabond anarchist… I lived everywhere. But when I met Angel I… I fell in love… he became my world, you know?" he was on a roll now that he couldn't stop. Julia pressed her lips together to form a tight smile, and nodded sympathetically.

"So I stayed. And… we had an apartment… and since I lost the job, our only income… as bohemians, we were obviously all struggling… Angel and I would be evicted and left homeless. So I drank, while trying to figure out what to do."

"Why didn't you just tell him?"

"I loved him – I still do – so much, I didn't want to worry him, you know? So I tried to figure it out on my own, and I met this guy in a bar, and…" he trailed off, embarrassed that he was rolling this all off on one of his students! But Julia understood, and patted his arm, reassuringly.

"Hey, I get it… you had an affair and he found out?"

Collins nodded. "Yeah. Kicked me out, and I've ended up here…"

Julia was dumbfounded at the brief history rundown of her favourite professor, it seemed so, so… dirty.

"Wow," she muttered, finally sipping her previously untouched coffee.

"Yeah. See why I want things quite? If the board found out… I'd have no where to go, honestly. All I have is work now."

"Tom, your secret is totally safe with me," she assured him. "You've been there for me, you care about your students more than any teacher I've known. So if you need someone, I'm here."

"Thanks," he replied, his eyes looking around at the few patrons in the café, and wondered about their secrets. Everyone had secrets, but some were took dark for even the person to admit to themselves, and he hoped that he wouldn't regret revealing his own.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - I hope you all liked it, please leave a review to say if i should continue or not. In the next chapter, Angel and Collins meet again for the first time in months, and a fight breaks out... and Julia meets Mark, with sparks flying. Literally.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Destroyed**

**SUMMARY: Circumstances arise that force Collins to go back into New York City, but he doesn't go alone – he takes Julia with him. It is there that he his forced to confront his demons and face Angel. Julia meets Mark.**

**Note: I'm not sure if Massachusetts is a conservative state or not, but for the sake of the story, it is.**

**Note: I am also fully aware that in the play, Angel dies less than a year after meeting Collins and the group, but again, for the sake of the story and poetic license, he's gonna live for a couple of years at least. It's for the sake of the story.**

* * *

A week had passed since Collins had revealed his secret to Julia, and things weren't getting any better for him or Angel. Since being discovered in the fucked up state he was in by his friends, Angel was brought back to the loft, where Roger insisted that he stay until things get a little better, whenever that would be. 

It was Friday afternoon, and Angel sat on the couch in jeans and a sweatshirt, just staring at the television and lost in his own thoughts. _I hate him,_ his subconscious screamed. _FUCKING BASTARD! He can rot in hell! That motherfu_-

"Angel?" Mark's voice suddenly broke the young man's depressed thought. Angel looked up with him, his eyes as dead as always with bags so heavy under them that they could carry his entire shoe collection. He narrowed his eyes at Mark, silently cussing him out for disturbing the somewhat peace that had consumed him for the last few hours.

"What?" he whispered, calmly.

"Mimi brought food back. You should eat."

"I'm not hungry."

Mark bit his lip, not knowing what to do… he believed he could never understand what had possessed Collins to do what he did, but all he knew was that Angel was sinking further into his own self that it was becoming dangerous. He was always so extrovert; so lively; so cheerful; so amazingly energetic… and now, it was like he just didn't exist anymore, and that fact alone scared Mark.  
He just sat down next to him, careful not to make any sudden movements or do or say anything that could cause Angel to react negatively… even violently. Roger looked up from his seat at the small table in the kitchen, and then glanced at Mimi and Maureen who both were quieter than usual. All of them had the same look on their faces. Fear. Fear that Angel would do something stupid to himself, as they had never seen a couple more in love than Angel and Collins. After learning what happened, Mimi wanted to do nothing more than hunt Collins down and beat the shit out of him, but Roger had calmed her down, knowing that it wouldn't accomplish anything to gang up on their friend and back him into a corner.

Mark clasped his hands in front of him and tried to think of how to support Angel without causing him to do anything rash. For three months now, everyone had to walk on eggshells when around Angel… he wasn't violent, but his emotional stability was well in doubt.

"Angel," he softly began, wanting to take this slow. "You're not eating; it's not helping your condition."

"Why the fuck does it matter?" Angel retorted, causing Mark to tense up a little. Roger got to his feet, and Mimi grabbed his arm just to make sure that he wouldn't do anything.

"I'm dying anyway. Might as well speed the fucking process up, right?"

"Angel, you're sick—"

"No shit!"

"I mean, you're depressed!"

"Two points for Markie!"

"You need help!"

"I don't need anything. Or anyone," Angel's voice deepened, his tone of voice and eyes both darkening to the point it was scary. Roger took a few steps forward, wanting to be there to make sure nothing happened. Angel narrowed his eyes at his friends and sat back, more casually, on the couch.

"I loved. I gave love. I wanted nothing back but his love. I couldn't even get that." He looked up at Roger."What good is giving love when you can't experience it yourself? I've spent my whole life giving love… and I thought I finally had it myself, but I guess I was fucking kidding myself. Again."

Maureen felt tears welling in her eyes – the only thing worse than a fallen Angel, is an Angel where he loses his faith in love… in friendship… in life. It was true, Angel had brought love and life back into their group, and wanted nothing in return… except Collins' heart. And now to have that heart ripped away from him so quickly, it was enough to make even the most faithful person lose any touch of love and even humanity in them.

"You have us, Angel. We love you. And Collins... he still loves you, I'm sure..."

"Fuck off, Mark."

"We're not going anywhere," Mimi stepped forward and knelt down in front of Angel. Roger was tempted to pull her away, for fear of her getting physically hurt, but he stayed in his place. With someone as volatile as Angel at that moment, no sudden movement was a smart idea.

"Fuck off, Mimi."

"It'll get better, honey," Maureen tried.

"Fuck you, Maureen."

The four of them looked at each other, trying to see if anyone else had any bright ideas to at least get Angel to open up to them. Mimi stood up and backed up to stand next to her boyfriend, and she interlaced her fingers with his.

"I wanna kill Collins," she whispered, not taking her eyes off Angel, who now had tears in his eyes.

"Join the line," he muttered. "Angel's gone."

Angel went back to staring at the television, very much aware that everyone was talking about him; looking at him; worrying about him, but to be honest, he really couldn't give a fuck at this point. He closed his eyes and yawned, wondering when the last time he slept was. _Fucking bastard… Collins… rot in hell…_

Memories started to flood his mind – times of good; times of bad, and the time when he found out about Collins' deception. His heart started the beat so hard that it was hurting, as it always did when he remembered the initial pain he felt… and really, that pain had yet to disappear. It just lingered in his heart and soul, slowly poisoning his blood which was more deadly then the virus, and more painful than a thousand knifes twisting through every vein and artery, and every corner of his heart. Tears burned his eyes.

"I loved him," he whispered and tearfully looked at Mark – the dangerous looks; the anger had all subsided and once again was replaced with pure misery. All he wanted now was comfort.

Mark lowered his eyes.

"I know, Ang. I'm so sorry…"

"And what's worse," he softly sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut even more. "Is that I still do… I can't stop loving him." He then burst into tears and Mark moved closed to him and pulled the petite and emotionally shattered man into his arms and just hugged him… there was nothing more he and the others would like to do than to string Collins up for what he did. But Mark also knew that Collins truly adored Angel, and that there must be something that must've happened that would cause him to lose his mind as he did. He heard something about Collins losing his job or something to that effect, but none of them except Angel really had the full story – and he wasn't at the stage where he could tell them everything without crying.  
Angel realized how much he needed his friends as he hugged Mark, and his eyes sparkled with the tears glistening in the dim light. Maureen rushed to her friend's side and hugged him around his waist.

"Hey, Angel," she whispered, smiling. "Look on the bright side… more time for shopping!"

Mimi walked up behind her and swatted her on the arm, causing her to yelp and scowl at the nineteen year old.

"Fuck, Maureen, you should sign up for sensitivity lessons," Mark snapped. But Angel smiled weakly at her attempts to cheer him up to some degree. It was true, when he was Collins, the entire world just disappeared and left them two… so now he had greater freedom to do things he hadn't been able to do for a while. Shop with Maureen. Hang out with his out drag queen friends. But still… no Collins.

"Come on, Ang." Roger sat on the side of the couch. "No one's telling you to stop loving him… maybe you should just, you know, open up to us more. We care about you, man."

"We love you," Mimi added, rubbing Angel's arms. "We hate to see you hurting, babe. Hey! Wanna come with me to the Cat Scratch Club? We'll have some fun, you know… get your mind off things. All of us. We'll all go!"

"Mimi," Roger started. "I don't think Angel would—"

"I'd love to." Angel interrupted and stood up, putting his arm around Mimi's waist and kissing her forehead.

"Thanks," he smiled sadly. "All of you. It means a lot."

"And you mean a lot to us, baby!" Maureen kissed him. "I'm gonna go call Joanne to see if she's gonna come!" she then bounded off and opened the front door, running down the stairs to the phone booth just outside the loft. Mark rolled his eyes at Maureen's one-track mind, but didn't let it bother him. He never stopped loving Maureen, but would he get back with her if given the chance? Hell no. As naïve and even ignorant as the young filmmaker was, he did a few ounces of pride and desire for self preservation in left him. Maureen, as a friend, was awesome to have. But romantically, with her, it was a train wreck. Unfortunately, Joanne chose to learn that the hard way, but they seemed happy with each other.

Mark's lack of a romantic life did depress him at times, but instead of dwelling on it, he just threw himself into his films and being with, and enjoying the company of, his friends. They were his life, and there is nothing that would ever make him hurt them or abandon them. _Like Collins did,_ he bitterly thought. Ironically, he thought it would be Roger who would be more willing to leave them… it would take a lot for him to do that, but if Mark had to chose between Collins and Roger, he always thought that Roger would probably jump on the opportunity before their professor friends. After all, Collins was always a warm, friendly, and extremely loyal man to his friends, and his lover (once upon a time). But after all this affair shit when down, he had just upped and left, without so much as a meaningful goodbye.

All Mark wanted was to experience love the way Collins and Angel once had, but without all the drama at the end, of course. But he kept his mouth shut as he grabbed his coat, and looked over to see Mimi helping Angel to the back room so they could get cleaned up and ready to leave. Roger also pulled on his coat and shook his head, dejectedly, when he realized that Mimi and Angel would probably take another two hours to get ready, and Mark laughed at his friend's expression. Roger just picked up an old, small pillow on the couch and hurled it at his best friend, who ducked out of the way just in time for it to go flying by his head.

"Nice, Roger."

"Fuck off."

"Oooh."

**MEANWHILE, WITH COLLINS**

Julia had never been to New York City before, despite being from New Jersey, and so as they crossed the bridge she just stared out the window in a sense of awe and wonder. Collins couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on her face as she was experiencing a new part of American culture that she had studied, but never actually experienced for herself.

"This is where you lived?" she asked as they drove through East Village, and familiar settings started to register in his mind, and he slowed the car to turn a corner. His heart gave a giant leap when he began to drive the car down the familiar streets where he and his friends, including Angel, had spent a great deal of time together. He didn't want to drive this way – heck, he didn't even want to come to New York, but he didn't have a choice considering there was a convention that he was supposed to attend, and it was also a place for students to go too, so he offered for Julia to come along, thinking that she could definitely benefit from the experience – both personally and academically. He also offered for a few other very bright students from MIT to attend, and some agreed and had their own ways of getting there, while other declined the invitation, as it was a strictly volunteer thing for student. For professors, of his caliber especially, it was compulsory to attend and thus this was the quickest way to get there. It had taken a lot inside him to actually get in the car, but finally he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer, as he had offered to give Julia a ride.

"Yep," he smiled bravely, not wanting to show the increasing pain he was feeling. It almost came to a climax when he was forced to drive past the same club where Angel had discovered him and Samuel in the back room. Julia eyed him, suspiciously, and could see that her professor had tensed up a lot.

"Everything okay?" she asked, concerned.

"Yeah, of course."

She then looked out her window at the surroundings – sure enough, there were many 'artist-types' that were hanging out in front of buildings, some obvious druggies, and other near-poverty people who all hung out together.

"Wow…" she muttered. "Everyone's so… so…"

"Fucked up?"

"To put it bluntly."

"Yeah…" he replied, sadly. "Including me."

Julia debated whether or not she should bring it up, as to her it was an obvious place of distress for her professor; her friend, and she concluded that it must've been the area where he and Angel met or something. Over the past week, she had stopped into his office almost every day to see how he was doing, and got more assistance on her paper, or just went in there to hang out. Julia was a popular girl; a popular student, and she had other friends and family to hang out with, but she preferred Professor Collins' company as he talked to her like an equal. He did so with all his students, but with Julia especially… he didn't treat her like a student, he treated her like his peer, and told her that he was learning as much from her and the students as they were from him. She loved that idea. And he gave her advice, and listened to her when she had problems. The thing with Julia was that most of her other friends were now working, and she was the first of her family and close group of friends to ever attend college, and getting on the Dean's List. So her family and friends couldn't understand some of the issues she was going through at college, and the few friends she had at college were wrapped up in their own work, understandably, so really she had no one to confide it at her level; her understanding. Except Professor Collins. And for Collins, he was glad to finally have someone he could talk to, who wouldn't judge him or his lifestyle (I.E. being gay, with AIDS, in a conservative state)… and Julia didn't. Rarely did he hang out with other members of the faculty – he didn't _not_ get along with them, they just weren't his style. No, he preferred being with the students, who were as passionate and hungry to learn and grow as he was… their minds were open with possibilities, and he could understand them better and vice versa.

"Is this where you and Angel…?" she trailed off, but he knew what she was asking. He nodded, keeping his focus firmly on the road in front of him.

"Angel and I met over there," he pointed to a nearby building and a telephone booth. "A year and a half ago… Christmas Eve, 1989… I had just called Mark and Roger, my best friends… and then I got mugged."

"No shit, on Christmas Eve!"

"Yeah. I know… anyway, Angel was the first and only person to see how I was. His first words to me," Collins smiled at the memory of his first meeting with the lovely Angel Schunard. "He said, 'You okay, honey?'."  
Julia smiled.

"And you said?"

"I said, 'I don't think so'. To be honest, I was quite fucked up. But he offered to take me for some food… take me to a life support meeting… an angel of the first degree is what I called him."

Sadness filled his heart when remembering the good times with his only real love, and began mentally kicking himself for what he had done. He had screwed up the only thing that had meant anything to him.

"I'm sorry," Julia apologized and lowered her eyes, feeling guilty for bringing it up. "You must really have loved him."

"It's cool," he reassured. "Actually, it's quite liberating… being able to talk to someone who—"

"Won't judge you?" she guessed. He chuckled.

"Well, that. But I was gonna say… to someone who wasn't there."

"Ahh, I see."

"I dunno," he sighed and pulled the car to a stop at the traffic lights, and looked at her. "I guess… I just never envisioned my life without him, you know?"

"Can't you fix it? I mean, you seem so unhappy at MIT. You belong here, and you want to belong here, I can tell… Come on, professor," she laughed weakly. "It ain't that hard to figure out."

"Angel wants nothing to do with me anymore," his voice softened and went back to driving the car when the green light came up.

"I was the one that screwed it up, I betrayed him… I gotta respect his wishes now."

"You also gotta respect your own, Tom. You still want him – you shouldn't let him go without a fight… without him knowing how much you love him."

He smiled. It was hard to find such tolerant people when it came to being gay with Aids. After all, it was the early 90's, and there was still much to learn about the disease… the more scientists learned, it seemed, the more they realized how much they didn't actually know about it. Julia was definitely a refreshing change to the accusing, disgusted eyes that had accompanied him from the New York elite at times… she was fast becoming a close friend of his, not just a student. In fact, he was starting to see her more as a friend than a student.

"Thanks, Julia," he spoke with sincerity. "But, I'm afraid it's too late. You didn't know Angel… he's… the life of the room. So much love and life in him, he's probably moved on…"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh hell no… no he hasn't."

Collins raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah?"

"Well… if you two were in love as much as you say you were… there's no way he's gotten past this, Tom. In fact… I doubt he's doing to well at all."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I've been in the same position…maybe you should go and see him, you know? To see how he's doing? Show him you still care."

"Julia, there's no way I'm going—" he paused, and decided he didn't wanna get in a fight with her about it, despite knowing that all she had was good intentions. He didn't want to bring an innocent woman into the mess he created, and he sure as hell couldn't ask her, nor expect her to fix it.

"Look, can we forget it? I gotta think about this damn speech I have to give… afterwards, you wanna go for dinner? There's an awesome place I know not too far from here…"

"Sure," she grinned. "Sounds awesome."

They continued in silence for the next ten minutes, and Collins' eyes managed to glimpse around at his own neighborhood as they were driving. It remained the same; nothing was different from three months ago when he was last there. But still… then, they found themselves driving past a club. A familiar club. The Cat Scratch Club, where Mimi still danced. Collins could feel the lump developing in his throat, and memories filled his mind of the times he and Angel would be there, with the entire group, watching Mimi dance, and just having fun… but rarely were they pay attention to anything or anyone but each other.

"What's wrong?" Julia asked, snapping him back to reality. "What is that place?"

Collins didn't reply, and he slowed the car, his eyes widening when he realized who was standing just outside the entrance. No fucking way… this is too coincidental. I mean, things like this didn't happen, did they? Not—

"Without a reason," he muttered, absentmindedly.

"What?"

He didn't reply, and the car almost came to a halt in the middle of the street when he sat Mimi dressed up in her dance outfit, followed quickly by Roger, who was laughing and holding her by her waist. They seemed to be sharing an intimate joke. Then, he saw Maureen and Joanne making out against the wall just next to them, with Mark filming all the happy couples, and then…

"Oh God…" he muttered, choking back tears. Angel was holding onto Mark's arm, quietly whispering something in his ear, and then laughing and hugging him just like he always did, affectionately. Collins' breathing became ragged and shallow, and he felt as if he was about to lose all self control. Julia followed his gaze and saw a blonde man with a video camera… a very handsome blonde man… and standing next to him, was probably Collins' Angel… a tall drag queen, complete dressed in drag attire, with a black wig and black heels and leggings... very pretty. Beautiful. And as Collins said, he… she… was full of life – very vivacious and flamboyant. Angel danced around in the street, seemingly happy and passed all sadness. Collins' heart broke at the site of his former lover… not that because Angel was happy, because that's all he wanted for his love – to be happy. But because he wasn't at his side.

"Angel…" Julia whispered.

A single tear rolled down Collins' dark brown skin. All the good and bad memories were threatening to overwhelm him to the point beyond all control, and all they could do was watch all six of them disappear behind the front doors of the club, and all Collins could do was watch, helplessly, and wish that it were him that was with them. They hadn't seen him, and that was probably for the best… Angel had moved on. And deep down, Collins knew it was time for him to do the same, but he just couldn't – and he couldn't, he refused to, believe that Angel had moved on after only three months, especially after the circumstances in which they ended. Angel was much deeper than that, and he could be very vulnerable at times, and the love they shared was deeper than anything else in the world.

"No…" Collins muttered. "It's a façade…"

"What?"

He just stared at the now closed doors, not blinking. "I can tell… I know my Angel. It's fake, a façade… he's hurting more than I realized."

Julia shook her head. "Tom, I don't know… maybe I was wrong, he looked pretty okay to me."

"But that's Angel," he told her. "Never wanting to be a burden, wanting to make sure everyone around him is safe and happy… even at the expense of his own feelings. He doesn't like people to worry about him; to fuss over him… I can tell… he's faking it. Angel never usually fakes anything…" tears slipped down his face more rapidly. "I hurt him so bad… he'll never forgive me… when he's putting on a façade, it means he's hurting too deeply… I can never forgive myself," he then started to drive back at the normal speed limit, leaving the club fading into the distance and he tried to focus on just getting to the convention.

"And I doubt he will, either…"

**4 1/2 HOURS LATER**

Julia waited in the lobby for Collins to finish talking with a couple of convention's administrators. It was not 10:30 on a Friday evening, and they were both tired and wanting to get back to Massachusetts, and the convention had been a complete success, as had Professor Collins' speech.

"Julia?"

She turned around to see her tired professor slipping on his coat (which happened to be the same coat Angel had bought him on that Christmas when they met).

"Hey, all done?" she asked.

"Yep. Ready?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay."

They headed out the front door and the steps of the convention centre. Collins yawned and checked his watch…

"Want me to drive, Professor?" Julia offered. "You look beat."

"No, it's okay…"

"Honestly, I don't mind."

Collins smiled, gratefully. "Thanks." He handed her the eyes and they started walking towards where they parked the car, a block down the street. Collins closed his eyes and felt the cool breeze against his face, and breathed in the air. New York air. He missed it so much… he loved the city, he loved the lights, he loved the energy and passion and the fact that it was the city that never slept. He loved dancing with Angel in the streets, being on the rooftops with him, just laying there – talking, cuddling, kissing… he missed it all, and couldn't get his Angel off his mind. It wasn't fair. He seriously fucked up, and now he was paying for it… but why did Angel have to pay for it, too?

In the car, he did his seat belt and sat back, resting his head against the head rest and stared out the window while Julia started the car.

"Tom?" she asked, pulling the car out into the street.

"Hmm?"

"Everything okay?"

"Mmm…"

He closed his eyes, yawning. It had been a long day, and a few long months and he just couldn't wait for time to pass. After all, time heals all wound, right? Well, according to Collins that theory was total bullshit, but there was no harm in hoping at least. That's all he had now.  
About five minutes later, Julia turned the car into the next street and pulled the car to a stop just outside the Cat Scratch Club. Feeling the car stop, Collins opened his eyes and looked around, and it took a few moments for him to realize just where he was.

"Julia, why the hell are we stopping here?"

"Go in." she told him. Normally, she wouldn't be inclined to tell any of her professors what to do, but Collins was an except. He was her friend, and she wanted him to sort all this bullshit out.

"What!" he exclaimed, not knowing what she was up to. "What the hell? Julia I'm not going in there!"

"Yeah, you are… _professor_," she added that last part sarcastically. "Honestly, come on. There's obvious unresolved issues between not just you and Angel, but also your friends. You can't ditch your past, Tom. I know, because I've tried. Go in!"

"Hell no!"

"I'm not driving until you go in there. No matter how it turns out, at least you gotta try!"

"What business is it of yours to interfere in mine!" Collins snapped, angry that she was really pushing this.

"Just stay out of it, ok? I am your professor, you are my student. We should keep things like that!"

"And right now I'm the only one that gives a damn about what happens to you. We can both be adults about this, Tom. I'm not a kid. And I care about you, and you know as well as I do that you have to go talk to them!"

She parked the car properly and switched off the ignition and put the keys in her hand bag. Julia then turned to him.

"Go inside. I promise, if things don't go any better, we'll haul ass outta there and you never have to do it again. But please! Just try."

Collins could see the look in her eyes, and knew she was serious… and again, she was just trying to look after him, because she was really the only friend he had at the moment. Her best intentions not withstanding, it wasn't that easy to confront your past… especially when it was your fault things turned out the way they did. Collins missed Angel next to him every morning. He missed every kissed, every hug, every touch and caress, every time they made love, every look. If there was ever a chance to make things right, this was it…

Finally relenting, he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

"I hate you for this," he told her. "I should fail you on your next four assignments for this."

"Oh trust me," she laughed. "It'll be worth it. What's failing a class worth when it helps a good buddy?" she winked. Collins gave her an evil look before slamming the car door shut behind him, and looked up at the Cat Scratch Club where he had visited many times before. But now, it was just that much harder to take those next steps forward, literally… and he knew they'd all be there. They were always there at this time each week, as Mimi worked until closing at 2:00 AM.

"Get moving!" Julia called from the car.

"Give me my fucking space, will ya!" Collins challenged her. Finally, plucking up enough courage, he walked up the steps and showed the bouncer the pass Mimi had given him and the others a few months ago. The bouncer nodded and stood aside from the door so that Collins could get through, and he stepped into the all too familiar surroundings of the strip club. Not that it had any appeal to him, of course, with half naked girls stripping around him. But still, it was a good place for the entire group to gather and social and just have fun, and could be themselves without the prying eyes of a judgmental world focused squarely upon them.

The music was blaring and the lights were flashing… it was dark, but he knew his way around. Suddenly, Collins found himself turning on the heels of his feet and high-tailing it out of there, bursting through the door and running down the steps. Julia looked up from the book she had pulled out of her bag.

"Wow, that was quick," she commented.

"I can't do it…" he confessed. "I just can't…"

"Tom—" she began.

"Unless you come with me," he cut her off. She blinked.

"Are you serious?"

"Fuck yeah. I need someone who doesn't hate me, just in case things get bad."

"They don't hate you."

"Oh trust me, they do. I don't think any of them have forgiven me for abandoning them, not just Angel."

Julia sighed and bit her lip lightly, trying to think if that was the best option or not…after all, she could – or would – complicate things further.

"I don't know…" she stammered. "I mean, I don't think there's anything I could do—"

"Hey, you want me to do this, I need you there." Collins sounded desperate now, and he really did need some support. That's how bad things had gotten between him and the group, and his confidence wasn't exactly at its highest at the moment.

"Fine." She got out of the car and slammed the door shut. "But this is all you, Tom. You know you're doing the right thing." Julia walked around the side of the car and stood next to him on the sidewalk.

"No," he said and they began to walk up the stairs. "You know I'm doing the right thing. I know I'm digging a deeper hole for myself."

"Whatever"

A few moments later they entered the main room, to see that it was quite full – not to capacity – but there were a lot of 'patrons' that night. Collins didn't realize that he was gripping Julia's arm for support, but she didn't mind… he had been distracted by this for too long, and it was beginning to affect her, academically, as well. This was for the best, she was sure… for closure, at least.

It was between shows now, and the lights had just come up so Collins was able to scan the room quickly, and found that the entire gang – including Angel – was sitting at their usual tables, side by side, and Mimi was sitting on the edge of the stage, with Roger next to her and his arm around her waist. They all seemed like they were having a good time. But then he noticed that Mark wasn't there…

"I just gotta go to the bathroom. Wait here." He told her, and not waiting for her to respond, he started towards the men's room, leaving Julia standing along in the entrance way of the club. Nervously, she wrapped her arms around her waist, in attempts of self-preservation when she noticed a couple of nasty looking men making eyes at her. _How could Tom like coming here?_ She wondered. _Are all bohemians like this?_ In the typical fight-or-flight mode, Julia was ready to turn on her heels and sprint out of that club in a second if Collins didn't get his ass back here soon, and she nervously started biting her nails. It had been years since she kicked that dirty habit, but now she was in a new, strange, and possibly dangerous place… she really didn't give a fuck. She then began to shift her weight from one leg to another and tried her hardest to conceal her naivety and even innocence… she didn't wanna leave herself open to anyone._ Tom get back here, Tom get back here…_ her mind began to scream and tried to telepathically link with him. Obviously, it didn't work. _Come on, come on…_

"Hey honey," came a creepy, deep voice from behind her. Too scared to turn around, yet even more scared not to, Julia slowly turned around to see a tall, fat, dirty looking man with a cigar hanging out of his mouth, his hair a mess, a beer in his hand, and sweating profusely. He licked his lips and leaned against the wall, trying his best to act smooth.

"What's a sweet young thang like yourself doing in this place? Haven't seen your kind in here before…"

"I'm…" she stuttered. "I'm just waiting for a friend… he won't be too long."

The man, who looked to be in his mid forties, grunted. "Hmph… doesn't seem like a good kind of man… leaving his girl alone like this in a strange new place…"

"He… he's not my boyfriend," Julia tried to remain polite, but now her eyes were darting around the room, in a panicky state, wanting her professor to get out here and protect her.

"Ahh, a single honey…" the man eyed her up and down, licking his lips again and standing up straight.

"So… where you from?" he started walking towards her, and Julia started backing up against the wall.

"Uhh… um… I… Jersey…" she stammered. She was wearing just a blouse and a denim skirt, so she tried to pull it down a little further as to cover her legs a bit more.

"Jersey?" he repeated, running his dirty , cigar-smelling fingers through his greasy hair. "Nice… Jersey girls are hot… so what's a honey like you doing in here?"

"W… waiting… like I said… I gotta go…" she moved to leave, but he cut off her exit and got to within inches of her. She could smell the alcohol and cigars on him, mixed in with sweat, and it nauseated her.

"What's your hurry?" he slurred. "Wanna go… have some fun?"

"I… I can't," she could feel the tears coming. "I… no. No… I have to go…"

"Well hey, I'll give you a ride… I'll give you an awesome ride… all night long…"

"No, I—"

"Oh come on…" he pressed up against, his body leaning heavily against her and the disgusting man leaned in to kiss her, when a young man came climbed down off a ladder in the corner of the room. He picked up his camera and started pointing it in the direction of a man who was pushing himself on an obviously resistant young blonde woman and he couldn't believe anyone else wasn't noticing.

"Hey, Casanova!" he called over to them, who were only about ten feet away from him. The man looked up and saw the guy pointing a camera in his direction, and he immediately released Julia from his grips. Scowling, he turned and stormed away, without so much as another word to Julia or him. The man climbed down off the ladder and walked over to her, his eyes still following the man to make sure he wouldn't return. He then looked at her.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder from concern. The woman was breathing deeply and very distressed, so he helped her over to a free seat and poured her a glass of water.

"Here," he handed it to her, and she immediately took it and gulped it down. "You okay?"

After a few moments, she seemed to calm down a bit, and she finally noticed the man who had saved her from what, in her mind, would've been a fate worse than death.

"Oh my God…" she muttered, still shaking. He knelt down in front of her.

"You okay?" he repeated.

"Yeah…" she replied. "Thank you so much, I… I just… I don't…"

"Hey, it's cool, no problem," he assured her. "Creeps like that are in here all the time. Security is supposed to be working, but there's only so many bouncers, and I'm actually helping to repair a couple of their video cameras. Otherwise it's every man – or woman – for himself, you know?"

Julia laughed weakly, and couldn't believe how kind this man was being to her. He was blonde, wore classes, and definitely fit the bohemian style that Tom had told her about.

"Yeah… thanks so much."

"Like I said, no problem. You're new around here, aren't you?"

"You could tell?"

"Yeah well… we don't get many of your types in here…"

"My types?"

He shrugged and stood up. "Yeah… you know, preppy college types… sorry, I don't mean offence. But it can get rough in these areas… you seemed kinda lost."

"None taken," she smiled and sipped more water. He fidgeted with his camera.

"I'm Mark. Mark Cohen," he held out his hand.

"Julia Sampson," she replied and took his hand, shaking it, and then allowing him to assist her to her feet.

"And yeah, I'm new… I'm just waiting for a friend, he's got something he needs to take care of."

"And he left you here alone?"

"He went to the bathroom."

"Oh."

Then, without warning, things were interrupted when sparks started to fly, and a crackling sound erupted from one of the video cameras had been working on.

"Whoa!"

"Get down!" he pulled her to the ground, and several people had to duck as the camera fizzled out and more sparks flew.

"Fuck!" people scrambled out of the way.

"Cohen!" one man, who Mark recognized as one of the club owners, shouted. "What the fuck--?"

A few moments later, everything was calm again and the sparks stopped, leaving smoke coming out of the camera. People stood up again, and Mark once again helped Julia to her feet.

"Fuck," he muttered, and removed the camera from around his neck and handed it to Julia.

"Hold this a minute?"

"Sure," she replied, taking it, and walking with him to the ladder. She found a comfort in this man who saved her – he was sweet, handsome (in a quirky kind of way), and seemed cool enough. He climbed the ladder while she stood next to it, in the corner, and looked around. People returned to their business, and chatting and drinking; smoking and laughing all resumed among the guests at the club.

"So where are you from?" he asked, while visually inspecting the camera. He then spotted the cause of the mini-explosion.

"Fucking faulty wiring…" he added, to himself.

"Uhh, New Jersey," Julia replied, fidgeting nervously. "I live in Massachusetts… I got to MIT…"

Mark couldn't help but pause when he heard 'MIT', and thought of Collins. Maybe she knew him… but what was she doing here? Nah… it wasn't possible. Was it?

"This is my first time in New York…" she continued.

"First time? And you're from Jersey?" it was more of a comment then a question.

She laughed. "Yeah, well… let's just say my life was kinda sheltered for a while. New York always scared me for some reason… the crime and stuff."

"Yeah, that stuff will kill ya," he winked down at her and continued fixing the camera. Why couldn't these guys just hire more bouncers instead of trying to go high tech? This was the last place in New York where you'd expect technology to be running good.

"So what you doing in New York?"

"My professor and I," she replied. "We came for a convention for professors and students… it was cool, but kinda dull."

"You and your professor, huh?" Mark teased. "Nice…"

"Not like that!" she retorted, finding it hard to believe how easy it was to talk to this guy. He made her feel at ease.

"He's gay, it's not like anything could happen even if I did like him. Besides, it would be unethical."

Mark didn't hear her say the part about the professor being gay, otherwise it would've peeked his interest further.

"And you ended up here?" he queried further, wondering what a beautiful young, educated woman from out of town would be conducting any business here – in a strip club, no less.

"Yeah, well… like I said, my friend has business to take care of. I kinda forced him, he's not up to it. And he's taking fucking forever in that bathroom…" she looked towards the restrooms, to see if anyone was coming out. But no one was.

Mark finished replacing one of the screwed up wires and then connected it back up to the main power, and then flicked in on. Mimi had convinced him to help out her boss so that she'd get a break for once, so he agreed.

He climbed down off the ladder and faced her.

"Want me to go find him?"

"No, it's okay… I kinda don't wanna be left alone out here anyway."

"Of course. Sorry, stupid question."

"No, thanks so much. It'll be cool…"

Mark looked over at his friends, who were still wrapped up in their own little world, but saw that Mimi had left, presumably to go backstage where she would be getting ready for her next set. He then turned back to Julia.

"Wanna get a drink?"

She hesitated, before deciding that she could trust him – just until Tom got back.

"Sure," she smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

****

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ in the next chapter, Collins and Angel confront each other… Julia is introduced to the rest of the group… a fight breaks out. **

**Please let me know whether or not to continue by leaving a review. It would be much appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Destroyed**

**_SUMMARY_: Sparks, literally, flew between Mark and Julia… but now Collins must face his past and his mistakes when he confronts his heartbroken ex lover, Angel, and the friends he abandoned three months earlier. A fight breaks out. **

_In response to a review – everything in my stories is done for a reason. I know it seems like Mark and Julia would make an unlikely couple, but remember I haven't finished the story yet. Their attraction doesn't necessarily spell romance. They are intrigued by each other so far. This story takes place almost two years after the play, and all of them have gone under changes beyond their control… trust me, there is a point and purpose for everything that will be revealed in due time. Julia seems perfect. Seems. Like I said, all will be revealed in due time. Thanks for reviewing!_

_Note: This is also my first real attempt to place Mark at the centre of any storylines, so I'm still learning. But thanks for the tips, I appreciate it!_

* * *

Julia and Mark sat at the bar, and after about ten minute, she started peering over his shoulder towards the restrooms. It had been fifteen minutes and Collins still hadn't emerged from the bathroom, and she was getting worried – she didn't want him to back out of it now… not that he was so close. Mark sipped his beer and followed her gaze, turning his head to see what she was staring back. He smiled, slyly. From the past fifteen or so minutes of talking to her, she definitely grabbed his attention… she was funny, charming, intelligent, but unfortunately she hadn't really been exposed to the ways of the East Village/bohemian lifestyle, so as much as he was already attracted to her, he feared that she wouldn't want any part in such a downtrodden, rough lifestyle. Either way, she was fun to talk to.

"Your friend still hasn't emerged?"

She shook her head, licking her lips which had dried from constant anxiety over where her professor had disappeared.

"There's not a window he can escape out if is there?"

Mark frowned, though amused at the question. "No… why? Is it that bad?"

Julia shrugged, dejectedly. "I don't know… well, I suppose so… he was scared to come in here, you know?"

"Why?"

She pressed her lips together, and then said, "I can't say… it's personal… I doubt he'd want me spilling his secrets to a complete stranger."

"I totally understand, believe me…" Mark smiled and looked around. In about five minutes Mimi would be back on stage for the next set, so he'd have to head back to his friends… but he didn't want to leave this girl here by herself.

"I've got so many secrets too; I don't even spill to my best friends."

"So what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

He was slightly taken aback by the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… you seem like an intelligent, sophisticated, sweet guy… why you hanging out in a strip club?"

He chuckled, amused at the naivety of the girl and her thoughts that he was sophisticated. _If only she knew…_ his mind taunted him.

"I live around here…" he said. "In a loft on Avenue B, with my best friend, Roger, and his girl Mimi. Mimi's a dancer here. Our entire group is made up of artist-types, you know? Not exactly the picture of success."

Julia eyed his camera. "You're a filmmaker?"

He glanced at the camera and then back at her. "Oh this? Yeah, well… it's a hobby, you know? I enjoy filming my friends; our lives… make small films. I even sell footage of events to T.V. stations…"

"Really?" she sounded surprise. "That's amazing…"

"Yeah, it's okay."

The conversation trailed off after that; neither really knowing what to talk about next… Julia found herself being oddly attracted to this guy for some reason – and it worried her, considering that he was an 'artsy' type, someone who lived in a loft, a carefree spirit… an outsider. The kind of guy she usually avoided, and certainly didn't usually find attractive. But this Mark guy was intriguing. Julia had never been in the East Village before, so maybe the media depictions had clouded her judgment, but this was… different. She wasn't sure what it was, but this guy seemed comforting. Almost… safe. And for the past fifteen minutes, they talked about themselves; their lives, and were really enjoying themselves. She placed her beer down on the bar and looked over at the restrooms again… still nothing.

"Damn it," she cried, frustrated, and looked to Mark for help.

"Uhh…" he stammered. "Look, my friend's just about to go on and do her thing, and I got friends waiting…"

Julia was slightly disappointed, but she smiled anyway. "That's cool, I totally understand." She stood up and opened her handbag to get out money, but Mark cut her off.

"Whoa, hey no. I got this."

"Are you—"

"Yeah, yeah."

Ever the gentleman, Mark paid for the drinks and they both stood, ready to part. "Thanks so much," Julia gushed. "It's been quite a while since I met someone who cared before."

"Really?"

"No fuckin' kidding."

Mark still didn't want to leave the girl alone, but as shy as he was, he was a little nervous to ask her over to the group. So he took a deep breath, and…

"Hey, while you're waiting for your friend, do you wanna come sit with us?" he spoke quickly, and prepared himself for rejection. That was about as close as he could get to really just asking her to join him for a few more drinks, but he was relieved and definitely surprised to see her smile as a response.

"Sure. I'd love to, thanks… if your friends wouldn't mind."

He gestured for her to follow him, which she did. Looking around at all the half-drunk idiots around her, and wondering why anyone would want to come in here, let alone work here, was beyond her comprehension. She just ignored the whistles and the hollers in her direction, and followed Mark over to two corner tables, and her eyes widened when she realized where he was leading her to.

"Oh man…" she whispered. There, sitting in the corner, was the guy she recognized as Angel, who Collins had been stunned to see earlier that day.

"Shit…"

It led her to wonder if Mark was the same person her professor had told her about, one of his friends, earlier that day. Everything seemed to fit – and she was terrified of what to do. Fuck. She couldn't let Tom stay in the bathroom forever, and yet she couldn't just run off without an explanation. There were four of them sitting at the tables. It then hit her that Mark was probably the guy who Angel was holding onto just outside the club earlier that day. Fuck. This wasn't gonna be easy.

"Hey guys," Mark greeted his friends, giving Roger a high-five.

"Mark, what took you so long?" Maureen asked who Julia only recognized as a dark-haired artist type, just like Mark.

"Markie was off getting lucky," Angel grinned, glancing quickly at the pretty girl who was following Mark to the tables. Julia made sure not to make eye contact with the guy who her professor was currently scared to death of facing… things were about to get awkward.

"Fuck you, Ang," Mark mockingly punched Angel's jaw, and the drag queen just blew a kiss in his direction.

"Ha, ha."

"Who's this?" A black woman, who had her arm around the dark-haired woman._ Lesbians? Filmmakers? Artists? Drag queens? AIDS? Damn…_ she thought, her confusion growing by the second. If this was life in the East Village, she wasn't sure she'd be able to look at Tom in the same way again… but then again, he had warned her – hell, he even prepared her for it. But still…

"Oh, shit," Mark stepped aside, almost forgetting the petite young woman standing behind him. Gently he placed his hand on her back, coaxing her forward so the four of them could see her properly. Roger eyed her carefully. _Pretty,_ he thought. _But so not from around here._ Almost instantly, they all knew that she was an outsider… and that Mark already had a thing for her… and that he probably wouldn't have a chance.

"Guys, this is Julia Sampson. Julia, these are my friends. This is Roger," he gestured to a rough looking guy who looked friendly enough. He raised one hand and gave a simple wave.

"Hi."

"This is Maureen," he moved his hand to the dark-haired woman.

"Hey honey," she winked in an over friendly way, and Julia felt a little uncomfortable. She saw the African-American woman harshly nudge Maureen, causing her to yelp. Mark ignored them both.

"That's Joanne. And next to her," he moved to Angel.

"This is the lovely Angel."

_I know_, Julia thought, but didn't dare say aloud, as tempting as it was. All she did was smile, friendly, at the group.

"Hey," she spoke, nervously. She was always quite nervous about meeting new people, but this was just fucking awkward. What was she to do now? Julia had to fight every temptation in her body to run into the men's bathroom and drag Tom out of there. I mean, how damn coincidental is this?

Roger pulled out a seat for her and smiled, charmingly.

"Take a seat," he told her, and she did. Everything was so different about them all, as if they saw _her_ as the outsider… well, she probably was. After all, they were a small group – probably very misunderstood by society… so it wasn't surprising that they gave her the 'Oh great, another outsider' type of look. Julia remained silent and just looked around the place, a little scared to actually speak. Her eyes lowered to her hands and didn't know what to do as Mark took a seat next to her.

"Mimi is backstage?" he asked Maureen. She nodded.

"Oh yeah. Angel wanted to go back with her!"

"Hey!" Angel spoke up, defensively. "I just thought I could give some of these girls a few pointers…"

"Oh I bet you could," Roger chuckled, drawing a dark look from Angel. "Let's face it, not too many of the customers would be too pleased to see you take to the stage."

"Yeah well," Angel shrugged. "Fuck them. I know what I got, and I'll flaunt it!"

"Oh you work it!" Maureen snapped her fingers and her and Angel high fived.

Joanne looked at Julia. "Don't mind these two, they're just insane. So where are you from?"

"New Jersey," she replied. "But I live in Boston."

"A college girl," Mark chimed in. "MIT."

Everyone fell silent when he said that word, as if it were banned to all of them. Because, naturally, there was only one name the associated with that place… but if they only knew what was in store for them.

"Uh, college?" Joanne tried to get things back on track. "What are you studying?"

She wanted to say philosophy, but was smart enough to realize the significant impact it could have on them, so she just said…

"Arts, and also computer science classes."

"Nice," Roger commented. "So what you doing in a place like this? I mean, no offence but we don't usually get college types in here…"

"Except one." Julia heard Angel mutter. _Great, things are getting bad already…_

"I'm, uh… just waiting for a friend, that's all. He's in the bathroom. He actually has some business to take care of here, you know? But he won't leave the damn restroom…" Julia stopped and knew she had just put her foot in her mouth, because the next thing she knew, Mark was standing up and he looked at her.

"I'll go find him… what's his name?"

It was a few moments before Julia realized that she had a lump in her throat the size of a tennis ball and that she couldn't breathe. This wasn't going according to plan… damn it! Why did it have to be Mark that saved her from that creepy bastard? WHY?

"Umm… you know what," she also stood up and looked around, pretending to check her watch although she knew what time it was.

"It doesn't matter, I'm sure he won't be long. Will you excuse me?"

Without waiting for him or the others to respond, she turned around and quickly heightened her pace as she maneuvered her way between people and tables, leaving all five of them absolutely dumbfounded at what just happened. Mark just stood there wondering what he had done…

"Wow…" Maureen commented. "That was different. Mark got ditched by a girl he's only known for thirty minutes…. OWWW!" her careless comment, according to Joanne, warranted another slap on the arm.

"Shut the hell up! Grow up, Maureen!"

But Mark didn't respond and simply watched the strange young woman disappear out of the front doors. He was tempted to go after her, but Roger grabbed his arm…

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah… I guess…" Mark replied, frowning in confusion. _Okay,_ he thought. _This is getting too damn weird._

**MEANWHILE**

Julia wasn't even down the front steps when she had already whipped out her cell phone and hit the number for Professor Collins. She had to tell him what was happening, and who she had met, before the shit really hit the fan. Her hands were shaking and sweating, and the warm air wasn't helping to calm her nerves. _Damn, it's hot_. She undid the top button on her blouse and pressed the phone to her ears (A/N: Yes, I know it's the early nineties, but they did have cell phones then… they were bulky kind of things, but they existed). After a couple of rings, Collins answered.

"Yes?" he spoke, wearily.

"Tom, what the fuck are you doing in there?" Julia hissed.

"What!"

"You heard me! You've left me in there for the past thirty minutes! What are you doing!"

"Where are you?"

"I'm outside. Answer my fucking question!"

"I…" she could hear his voice getting choked up, and she instantly felt guilt for coming down so hard on him. This couldn't be easy. But she was also aware of the very real possibility that Mark could, and probably would, walk in the bathroom at any second… she had to warn him.

"I just needed time to think is all, I—"

"Listen, Tom, I need to tell you something…"

"What?"

"I met someone in there tonight. There was this creepy bastard and he was coming onto me, and so this guy saved me from him—"

"Oh fuck…" Collins suddenly realized what he had done, leaving his student alone in a strange place, a strip club no less. Fuck.

"Shit, Julia I'm so sorry, I—"

"Forget that!" she interrupted, furiously pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of the club, and the bouncers were watching her carefully.

"Listen, there's something I need to tell you, but I—" she stopped when she heard, in the background, a door opening. _Oh shit…_

**BACK WITH MARK AND THE GROUP**

"Where are you going?" Roger demanded, following Mark's hastened pace towards the bathroom. Maureen, Joanne, and Angel just watched the two men hurry away, leaving them to ponder what the hell was happening and who exactly was that girl Mark had brought back with him.

"To find out who this fucker is who's messing with Julia," Mark replied.

"Man, you barely know the girl and it isn't your business anyway!" Roger tried to reason, but Mark was determined to find out what was going on.

"Dude, the girl almost got attacked while she was waiting for this guy, I just wanna—" he stopped when he opened the door to the men's room and his jaw dropped when he saw who was standing in the corner, talking on what looking like one of those cell phones.

"Holy shit…" he muttered. Roger came to a stop just behind Mark and he gasped at what – or should I say _who_ – he saw. Collins was standing in the corner, with his back facing them, and talking on the phone to someone.

"What the hell are you talking about, Julia?" he was saying.

"Julia?" Mark whispered, frowning. No way… oh God… no way! Julia… the professor… MIT… the fact that she was actually here in this club… it all made sense!

"No fucking way," Roger growled. "No! Mark, what have you done!"

"Me?" Mark hissed. "I had no idea!"

Roger pushed passed him and into the room, ready to beat the shit out of Collins, and boy was it taking all his power to resist attacking him. After everything that's happened, the fact that he was standing so near to all of them – to Angel. In the past few months the group had become so protective of Angel's welfare, that now they were at the point of not trusting even Collins.

Mark walked in and stood next to him – the entire restroom was empty except for those three, and Collins still hadn't notice that they were there.

"Julia, what the hell are you going on about? Slow down! Who did you meet! What! CALM DOWN!"

"She met me!" came a harsh voice from behind him, and Collins froze. Oh shit. Slowly he turned around and his breath caught in his throat and it was like he was about to choke on his own air. He began to tremble, and he dropped the cell phone, staggering back against the wall… that's how much of a shock seeing both Mark and Roger standing there was to him.

"Mark! R… Roger?" he stuttered, looking back and forth between them. "W… what are you doing here?"

"We should be asking you that." Mark snapped.

Meanwhile, Julia was outside, and she heard him drop his cell phone… she turned hers off and ran inside, knowing instantly that something was wrong.

Roger and Mark glared menacingly at Collins, knowing the full consequences of what could happen should Angel find out.

"Wait…" Collins stepped forward and frowned, staring at Mark. "You met Julia?"

"Oh yes," he replied, sarcastically. "We had a nice conversation. Of course, she told me all about where she was from, studying at MIT and being here with her professor… and conveniently she left out the part that her professor is you! What the hell kind of stunt are you trying to pull, _Tom_?"

Collins was still in shock from begin discovered by them… and the fact that Mark and Julia had met on completely their own terms, under a different circumstance. It just blew his mind, really. It was at that moment when he finally burst into tears and sank against the wall, slipping to the floor in, crying into his hands… he had finally broken down, and it wasn't pretty. Roger and Mark looked at each other, at a loss of what to do. They wanted to hate Collins, but they couldn't… and almost simultaneously, they went over to him and knelt down beside him. Mark was the first to reach out and put his arm around Collins, pulling him into a hug, and immediately Collins hugged him back, sobbing openly.

"I'm sorry," he cried, resting his head on Mark's shoulder.

"What happened, Tom?" Roger asked, patting the professor's back. "Who's this Julia? What are you doing here… what happened?"

Collins looked up and wiped his eyes. "I'll tell you everything…"

Then, the door opened and Julia stood there, not caring that she was about to enter the men's room… All three men looked over and saw her standing there, and she suddenly knew what had happened. This was gonna be a long night.

**30 MINUTES LATER – WITH MAUREEN, JOANNE, ANGEL, AND MIMI (Who had joined them)**

"Seriously, where the hell are they?"

"Who is Julia?"

"What's going on?"

"SHUT UP!" Mimi yelled, trying to hush the other three who was chattering away non-stop, trying to understand what was going on. It would be another half an hour before Mimi was back on stage, so she decided to kick back and hang with the girls for a bit. But understandable, she had no idea who Julia was or what was going on with Mark and Roger.

"Mark met her tonight," Joanne explained. "A college girl from Jersey… he seemed taken with her. But then she just ran out for some strange reason, and half an hour ago Mark and Roger disappeared!"

"Great," Mimi rolled her eyes and picked up a cigarette. "Let's face it - Mark hasn't got laid in so long, he'd try fuck anything with heartbeat if given a chance."

"Mimi!" Joanne scolded. "Damn, you're getting as bad as Maureen!"

"Bite your tongue!" Mimi retorted.

"Oh she doesn't have to. I'll do it for her!" Maureen smirked and leaned over to Joanne, planting a quite kiss on her lover's lips. Angel remained quite, lost in his own thoughts… and yes, he was still thinking about Collins. But actually, for the first time, he was actually having a good time with his friends, and that's what mattered.

"Angel?" Mimi plopped down in the seat next to her best friend. "You okay?"

"Hmm?" Angel looked at her. "Oh yeah. Just dandy!" he smiled and winked.

It was then that he noticed Roger storming towards them at what seemed like a hundred miles an hour, his feet thundering on the carpet, with a very concerned look on his face – not angry, but something was troubling him. He was quickly followed by Mark, and Angel nudged Mimi, who looked in the same direction, and she did the same with Maureen and Joanne. Mimi got to her feet and rushed to Roger.

"Babe, what's wrong?" she asked.

"I…" he started, but Mark cut him off. He walked around and stood next to Angel, kneeling down next to him.

"Angel…" he whispered. "There's... someone who you need to see…"

Angel's heart started pounding harder and harder, and he saw past Mark that the Julia girl was back and looking rather pale – disturbed, even.

"What the hell is going on?" the drag queen demanded to know, standing up and adjusting his skirt.

It was then that he saw him… in the bright white stage lights that blinded any clear vision of the path, a figure stepped into view... and upon seeing who it was, their eyes meeting – Angel fainted.

**15 MINUTES LATER **

Angel stood out the back of the club, staring at the man who had betrayed him for a night of cheap sex in a club where Collins knew they all frequented. It was hard to look at him, but hard not to all the same… _God, he's sexy,_ he thought, unable to shake the image of his ex's tall, muscular frame from his mind. Of course, it was more than lust that had attracted them to each other, but still – Collins still looked as gorgeous as ever, and Collins was thinking the same about Angel. Roger, Mimi, Maureen, and Joanne were also there, standing to one side and just preparing themselves for the impending explosion. Angel and Collins just stared at each other, not saying anything nor moving – not even twitching a muscle or batting an eyelid. A creepy stare-down to see who would crack first, and each man was certain that it wasn't going to be him.

Meanwhile, Mark and Julia were sitting on a bench across the street, talking. But Angel and Collins, like always, just saw nothing and no one but each other. Finally, Angel moved to brush strands of his black wig from his face, and eyed him up and down.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" his voice was monotone and eerily calm, spooking Collins.

"I… I…" he stuttered. "I'm…" he looked to his friends for help, but they just shook their heads. He was gonna have to handle this on his own.

"Angel, there's so much I wanna say…"

"Ha!" Angel scoffed, studying his perfectly manicure hands, pretending like it didn't matter.

"Oh honey, I think we've said all that's needed to be said. I hear Samuel's got a new hangout down on Broadway. Is that where you were headed?"

Ouch. That stung. Never before had Collins heard such vindictiveness from someone who always believed in love and friendship… and Angel's heart had now replaced such qualities with cynicism and bitterness that echoed through Collins' ears and just lingered on the air.

Angel turned and started to walk away, but Collins reached out and grabbed his arm, gently pulling him back.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Angel screamed, turning back around. He pulled his arm back and then brought it forward, his fist clenched. It connected with Collins' jaw with so much force that it sent the bigger man staggering backwards, and falling to the ground, gasping in pain and rubbing his jaw-line. But before anyone could take in what just happened, Angel snapped and started swinging wildly at Collins, punching him and kicking at the already fallen man, crying hysterically.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Angel screamed, feeling his fist slam into Collins' stomach. Collins screamed in pain and tried to push the usually weaker Angel off him, but found that his ex's adrenaline was pumping and full force.

Mark and Julia were brought out of their conversation by the sounds of screaming and crying.

"Oh shit," he muttered. Julia had just finished explaining to him what had happened, when they looked up to see Angel on top of Collins – and not in a good way. Angel was attacking Collins will full force, and if it hadn't been for Roger's quick reaction, along with Joanne's to pull him off of the bleeding college professor, with Roger restraining the drag queen, who continued to punch and kick the air, trying to find some way of physically hurting the man as badly as he had been emotionally destroyed.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKING SONOFABITCH!" he screamed, tears were streaming down his face, ruining his make-up. Mimi, Maureen, and Julia all rushed to Collins' side and tended to his wounds.

"Man, he fucked you up good," Maureen commented, and Collins staggered to his feet. Maureen held onto one of his arms and Julia held onto the others. Angel felt like nothing more than slamming Tom Collins' head into the sidewalk until he felt nothing.

"I told you to go to hell, Tom!" Angel growled, shaking from all the anger he was feeling – his veins were pulsing and his face was flushed – the wild look in his eyes resembled that of a wild animal hungry for it's prey, ready to tear into it.

"I told you never to come back! I HATE YOU!" he screamed – each word pained Collins' heart, stabbing him multiple times. Angel had opened his heart to the world once, and now the wound was so big that it couldn't be fixed – and he was bleeding to death because of it.

Collins just stood back, silently, as the younger man hurled abusive words at him, but didn't respond because he felt he deserved it all. Every word he knew Angel meant, he repeated it silently to himself, causing double the amount of pain.

Roger and Mark held Angel and tried to calm him down as best they could, and finally, a few moment's later, the drag queen ran out of energy and collapsed into Roger's arms, sobbing hysterically. Collins managed to composure himself enough to stand on his own, and he shook his head… he glanced at Julia, who just nodded for him to take the next step. Taking a deep breath, he took a step closer to Angel; even though he was bleeding from his forehead… he wasn't scared.

"Angel…" he whispered. "I… I'm not here to ask you to forgive me, I never could… I can't even forgive myself… and I have no excuses to offer you… I was scared. I was ashamed." He wiped his eyes with the back of his shaking hand, pausing only to keep himself from breaking down.

"I never stopped loving you, Ang… and I never will…" he opened his eyes and worked up the courage to look into those chocolate eyes he had fallen in love with over a year ago.

"And you were my whole world, and you still are… every night for the past few months have been agonizing. I have to live with myself knowing that I destroyed the one person I've ever loved, and every day I feel myself growing weaker."

Angel could only listen to the heart felt words of someone who had so cruelly broken him – wondering if these words were sincere, or more lies. Being more cynical than ever, he wanted so badly to walk up to Collins within inches of him and banish him from his life forever… to never see him; hear him; think about him; remember him… to wipe all memories of him and to erase his existence from his Angel's life. But he couldn't. No matter what, he just couldn't do it… all he could do was listen.

"And," Collins sniffed, and the continued. Julia linked her arm with his to let him know that she was there and supporting him… Roger, Mark, Mimi, Maureen, and Joanne… they were all silent and shocked to hear these words. After everything that happened, neither believed that Angel would be willing to hear anything from Collins – but seeing the two of them facing each other and no one was being killed…

"And there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Angel. Nothing. I would die for you…"

"And you would destroy me." Angel softly said his voice hoarse and dry from the screaming and crying. He needed a drink. No, fuck that. He needed to get laid – and not by Collins.

"I… Angel it wasn't like that—"

"Then what was it like?" Angel wanted to know. He never really got the answers he had wanted for so long now, so he calmed down and asked the questions. Collins was here and obviously laying everything on the line now. Maybe he could lay down the truth while he was at it. Angel looked at Julia and then back at Collins.

"Who is she?"

"Julia… one of my students… we've become friends… she convinced me to come here and talk to you."

"So you just came here because she told you to?" Angel accused.

"No!" Collins quickly said, knowing that he had worded his sentence wrong. "I was scared, Angel! So scared… that you wouldn't wanna see me that you wouldn't even hear me out."

Angel's cold, steely eyes drilled into the depths of Collins' soul, penetrating into it so deeply that he could see his ex lover for who he really was… Thomas Collins stripped away of all the influences and people who impacted his life, right down to the bare, real Tom Collins. And he saw – that he was the same man he fell in love with. As he expected. That's why it hurt so bad. A solitary tear escaped his eye and he didn't bother to wipe it away.

"I never stopped loving you, Collins. I still love you. But…" he sighed. "You couldn't trust me enough to tell me the truth to begin with – so I can't trust you anymore. I just can't."

With that said, Angel yanked himself free of Roger and Mark, and turned, walking away down the street. No one followed him – no one would dare try. But little did any of them know… things were about to get a hell of a lot more worse.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Warning for next chapter – the rating will be upgraded for sexual scenes. Nothing very graphic at all. Violence and death are also issues to be explored further in this story. In the next chapter, Angel disappears. A brutal crime takes place, and Julia is forced to leave New York to return to MIT… **


	4. Chapter 4

**DESTROYED Chapter 4**

**_SUMMARY:_ Angel disappears and a brutal crime happens. Julia is forced to leave New York. Collins is left with more guilt. Mark sets out to make things at least okay between them okay… but unfortunately, not before it's too late. **

**Warning, this chapter has violence and implied rape and assault, nothing graphic, but it may not be suitable for some readers. Just warning you. This is the chapter where we begin to learn a bit about Collins' past… and what it means for Angel's future.**

**With Angel, it may seem like he isn't in character, but you'll see why… there is a reason for everything in this story… it'll become clear in later chapters. **

_(A/N: Yes, I know you can't study actual arts at MIT… but she did simply not want to give away too much about her self, realizing the position she would be in. Just allow for poetic license – I'm Australian, I don't know too much about American colleges - I'm sorry I was vague on that detail, but just for the sake of the story let's just let it slide. Hope that clears it up! Thanks for reviewing!)_

* * *

Angel sat against the wall, rhythmically beating hisdrum to create a somewhat lively beat… it wasn't for money, but right now all he needed – all he wanted – was a distraction. He had lost all self control when he saw Collins again, and once more that old wound had been torn open and he was bleeding any last remnants of love for that man. _Who the hell does he think he is?_ His mind tried to reason with his heart. _Did he expect me to just break down and fling myself in his arms!_ Angel moved his arms at a quicker pace, effectively enhancing the beat of the drumming and tried to drown out anymore thoughts of what happened – he thought he was getting quite better from where he was at three months ago, and now this happened! 

He sat in Central Park… it was now past 1 AM but he didn't care… this was when all the pimps and their hookers, druggies or whatever came out to 'play'. Other drag queens also were out and about doing their nightly routine by creating a lot of noise, wanting people to know they were there.

Angel blinked away more tears, not relenting in the nice rhythm he had going, and just thinking about what he was gonna do next – he couldn't go back. Collins would be at the loft, he wasn't stupid. The rest of the group were devastated when he had packed up and moved the Massachusetts, and they were damn sure not going to let him go now, at least without sorting things out between the two ex lovers. Not that he blamed them, or their pitiful attempts, because he knew they cared about him and worried about his mental stability, but honestly their attempts were in vein. Nothing would change his mind now, but he couldn't help but smile at the images of Collins trying to be sincere… it was refreshing, as cruel as it sounds… but it let him know that there was love there from him once upon a time. And that Collins was having as much pain after all this as he was. It was a comfort.

The minutes ticked away, and the air grew colder… he found himself shivering and finally had to pause from what he was doing, and wrapped his arms around himself to preserve some heat.

"I hate him…" Angel whispered to him self, as if he was still trying to be convinced that he wasn't in love with Collins, that he hated him, and that he was better off without him. He looked around at his surroundings, but not feeling afraid… New York was his home and he knew the streets better than most life long New Yorkers.

Angel idly played with one of the drumsticks in his hand, just thinking. He couldn't go on denying that he still wanted Collins more than anything in the world – but what's love without trust? Trust without honor? Honor without compassion? He could no longer see these qualities in Collins, and it pained him to no end.

"I hate him…" those were the only words Angel could speak, although he wanted to scream from the rooftops about his betrayal, his anger, his pain… but would anyone hear him? Would anyone care? Would anyone even notice? Would Collins notice? Meeting that Julia girl at the club, he knew something was up but didn't know what – she wouldn't look at him, and when Mark said that she studies at MIT, Angel's heart began to race. It all made perfect sense now that all the facts had come to light, but it didn't make it any less difficult to swallow. His one chance at a future with someone beside him, no matter how long that future would last, was his only hope in the world – his one dream, one passion – and now it was gone. Angel's spirit finally broke when that jug of milk shattered into a million pieces days ago – he had hit rock bottom. It seemed that with all that broken glass and cold liquid that came into contact with his skin, had sent a powerful shock through his system, one which told him that his life wasn't about go back to normal. Nor would it be any easier to deal with… live with. And of course, there's no further to sink after hitting rock bottom but he had yet to find the motivation, the will to live, to pick himself up and start regaining who he was, step by step.

He started drumming again in his desperate attempts to drown away the sounds of his broken past, even if it was just for a little while, until his fingers were hurting and bleeding. Killing the pain for even a short time was better than nothing. As he continued to do his thing, footsteps slowly began to approach from behind, but he paid no heed to them. The footsteps grew closer and closer, until they came to a stop just behind Angel, who still paid no attention and continued to hum to the rhythm of the drum – his eyes were closed and had nothing on his mind except the beat.

After a few minutes of just standing there and watching the drag queen drum away, blissfully unaware of the impending danger coming from behind, the darkly dressed person reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. It had been a long time coming, this person wasn't really sure that he wanted to do it, but he had lost a lot due to Angel… and now he was gonna get it back.

Silently, he stepped closer to the unaware Angel, and held the knife at his side, ready to do what he had wanted to do for so long now. The knife blade glistened under the street lamp next to the bench and the tip of it was recently sharpened in preparation for this moment…

But Angel continued playing and each beat on the drum became harsher and like a scene from a horror movie – each beat representing one more second lost, and one more second closer to something horrifically violent. But he still hadn't caught on to who was behind him. If he had, maybe things would've made sense.

The person stood just behind Angel, pondering his next move – his hand was shaking in a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, the thoughts of the regret he would have for possibly taking a human life not withstanding, he had to do this. It was the only way, in his mind, that he would be set free and would get everything he wanted… everything he felt he deserved. And there was only one thing he felt he wanted. One thing he felt he deserved.

Angel opened his eyes and breathed in the warm, yet crisp, New York air and smiled through his tears… as bad as things had become, he still held onto a thread of hope that that's how good things would become. As broken as he was, there was still a twinkle of hope that he held on to, and that was only because he had his friends around him. But then… Angel stopped when a shadow was cast over him, in the shape of a person, who stood between him and the light provided by the street light, creating a silhouette. Angel licked his dry lips and his pupils dilated as his body started to quiver… slowly, he turned looked up and almost fell off his seat when he recognized who was towering above him…

Before he had a chance to move, the person quickly moved first and with one of his muscular arms, he wrapped it around Angel's throat and held his hand clamped firmly over the drummer's mouth, and just as quickly brought the knife around to press it firmly against him. Angel began kicking and struggling – his screams and cries for help were muffled under the person's gloved hand and he was pulled up off the seat with what seemed like relative ease until Angel's feet was off the ground. Whoever this was, he was very strong, but he then place Angel on the ground with his arm still firmly around his throat and mouth, with the knife pressed against his skin.

"Scream and your blood with paint the sidewalk a pretty red colour," he hissed in Angel's ear."Get it?"

Not wanting to tempt fate anymore than he already had, Angel nodded quickly – trying not to panic. The man still held the knife at Angel's throat, and then threw him to the ground with enough force to effectively knock the wind out of him. Angel coughed and spluttered, gasping for air and gripping at the grass next to the sidewalk, and the man pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket and walked over and knelt down on top of Angel in the near-deserted park. He straddled the terrified young man and shudder upon hearing the whimpers and cries coming from his victim… he didn't want things to turn out this way, but Angel pushed him to it. The man placed duct tape over his mouth to keep him quite while he moved sufficiently to turn Angel onto his stomach so that he could properly handcuff him, which he did, and then stood up. He then pulled the drag queen up by the handcuffs, very roughly, and Angel's muffled scream indicated that he had been dragged up with such force that pain was shooting through his arms and up his back. After making sure Angel was secure enough and wouldn't be able to get away, the man looked around nervously and saw that there still was no one around. Perfect. The man then took the knife out of his pocket again and pressed it to the same spot at Angel's throat and applied just enough pressure to assure Angel that he was serious – and that he would kill him.

"Now," he whispered. "I'm gonna take the duct tape off… and you won't scream. I don't have to tell you what'll happen if you do, right?"

Angel shook his head furiously. He understood perfectly.

"Good. Now… you won't look at anyone… talk to anyone… otherwise…" he made a mock gesture by pretending to cut Angel's throat with the knife. Angel nodded again, still whimpering, and the man then ripped the duct tape off his mouth. He then lowered the knife away from his throat and held it out of site, lifting Angel's top just enough so he could slip his hand under it, feeling his warm skin underneath, and held the knife there – concealing it from anyone's prying eyes.

"Good. Now, you're coming with me…"

**THE NEXT DAY – AT THE LOFT**

Julia and Collins at on the step just outside the building… what could be said for what went down the night before? Angel had run off, but it wasn't unusual for him to go off on his own and be gone all night, said Mark. So no one was really worried – except Collins, of course. Upon getting back to the loft that night, Mimi, Maureen and Julia had cleaned him up okay, and now he was just left with a killer headache. Despite Angel's petite, delicate size, he had one hell of a right hand… he left his ex with quite a nasty black eye, which served as a constant reminder, to Collins, of his own stupidity.

Now, everyone was inside and had left him and Julia to talk alone for the first time since everything went down. She was more confused than he was, and was extremely scared of this entire place. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to live here, in this… this… whatever it was… and actually enjoy life. I mean, to her, it wasn't possible. And now, she couldn't help but judge her professor by it – whether that was a good or bad thing, who knows, but all she knew was that she wouldn't be able to see him in the same light ever again. Things were just too weird. Too complicated.

Julia absentmindedly picked at her fingernails, too afraid to really say anything or to bring up last nights events. When he was ready to talk about it, he'd let her know – she was sure. And she was right.

"Man, I screwed up…" he commented, scratching the back of his head. He wasn't crying. He wasn't even depressed. He was just confused.

"So did I," Julia admitted, her eyes lowering. "I'm sorry, professor… I shouldn't have pushed you into it…"

"Forget it," he shook his head. "It had to happen sooner or later. I guess I'm just glad it's over… we can get back to Mass and Angel can finally move on or whatever it is he wants to do."

"So you're giving up?"

"What is there for me to do, Julia?" he snapped. "I mean… last night… you and Maureen… I was bleeding and you two conveniently forgot that I have AIDS. With Maureen, she's just reckless, but you…" he sighed. "This isn't a place for you, Julia… you shouldn't be exposed to this. I'm the one who should be sorry, I should never have—"

"If you didn't, you would've gone insane and you know it," she interrupted.

"Julia I could've infected you!"

"But you haven't!"

Collins closed his eyes and breathed deeply, not wanting to really go at it with her… but the risk was too great. He was foolish for believing that he could convince Angel of his love, and how sorry he really was.

"It's over," he said simply. "There's nothing more I can do anyway…"

"But you haven't even tried! You love him! Why would you give up--?"

"Because that's how it is, Julia!" he cried, frustrated with her lack of comprehension. "I fucked up and now I'm paying for it…" he paused. "And the worst thing is so is he!"

Collins stood up and gazed around at early morning New York, and feeling slightly nostalgic for this place where he had spent most of the best years of his life – which were, ironically, with Roger, Mark and the entire group. And then Angel entered his life, and suddenly everything seemed unreal, like a never ending dream. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys – after flicking through a few of them, he found the one he was looking for and detached it from the key ring and forced it into her hand.

"Go home, Julia. This is no place for you…"

Shocked, she glared up at him. "Wha… I'm not going anywhere!"

"You are going home… or I'm gonna call your parents. They'll come get you I'm sure…"

"I'm not a child!" she spat, getting to her feet.

"No…" he softly replied. "But I can't afford to have you here anymore… you have work to do. And like I said – this is no place for you. I can't force you to leave, Julia… but please, for me, do it. I still have some things I need to take care of." Without another word or even so much as a second glance, Collins turned his back to her and went back inside to the loft – leaving Julia alone, confused, on the step.

A few minutes later Collins entered the loft to see Maureen resting her head on Joanne's lap while laying stretched out on the couch, Mark was in the kitchen inspecting the contents of the fridge, Mimi was sitting with Roger as he continued to make some more adjustments to the new song he was working on. None of them really paid him any attention when he closed the door behind him, except for Mark, who frowned when he didn't see Julia with him – he wasn't sure if he was romantically interested in her, but she was definitely a curiosity. They both seemed to share the common qualities, including being generally outsiders to their own respective communities, and were very loyal to their friends, etc… in Julia's case, her commonality with Mark was their concern for Collins' welfare.

"Where's our friend?" he asked casually and the professor joined him in the kitchen.

"She's outside," Collins replied and sat at the table. "I gave her my car keys and told her to go home…"

"What!"

Collins jumped slightly and the intensity of Mark's reaction, not sure of whether to be scared or amused.

"Yeah…" he continued, slowly. "This isn't her scene, man. She's my student for fuck's sake – she shouldn't be exposed to this shit. You saw her last night, she was terrified! Honestly, it's for the best…"

"Collins, she's your friend… she risked a lot for you, hell she almost got jumped last night while waiting for you," Mark reasoned while trying to mask his personal disappointment that Collins would send her back to Massachusetts.

"I think you owe her a little more than a patronizing apology."

"Watch yourself, Cohen."

"Whatever."

Collins paused and studied Mark's body language carefully – he looked calm enough, and not at all jumpy like he was when he wanted to ask Maureen out for the first time. In fact, he seemed very stable. Did he like Julia? Neither man was sure, but there was something about her that Mark wanted to get to know better, at least. The front door opened again and Julia, who looked very tearful, entered and started towards Mark and Collins.

"Can I talk to you?"

**5 MINUTES LATER – JUST OUTSIDE THE LOFT**

"I want you to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid…" Julia instructed Mark while scribbling something down on a scrap piece of paper against the wall. He blinked in disbelief.

"You're actually going?"

"Yeah well," she shrugged. "He's right, I don't belong here. I'm just in the way—"

"You're not in the way!"

"—and to be honest, I'm terrified of this place…" she finished what she was writing and turned back to face him.

"Look, I haven't known you long, but Tom trusts you… I know you'll take care of him for as long as he needs… and besides, I have study to catch up on. I got an assignment due in on Monday and I'm not nearly done, so—"

"Wait, wait… you can't leave."

She raised an eye brow at him. "How come?" she folded her arms across her chest.

"Because…" he hesitated. "Because I just think he needs you. The man's fucking falling apart, I think he needs you…"

"Mark, I can't be here when he doesn't want me here… and again, he's right… this isn't any more I can do for him. This is between him and Angel, and really you know them together more than I do. It just makes sense this way," she flicked her hair from her face. "I've interfered enough."

And also, despite her reassurance to Collins, Julia really did wanna schedule a doctor's appointment, fearing that he may actually have infected her somehow. As bad as that sounds, at that time, that was thinking of a lot of people who still weren't too clear on how the virus was transmitted, including her. But she also knew that she had to respect Collins' wishes at the time, fearing that he was on the verge of snapping.

She smiled.

"Thanks for everything, Mark. Tom's lucky to have such a great friend," she leaned towards him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and turned to leave.

"Who knows," she added. "Maybe we'll see each other again soon." She then walked away and Mark, once again, had not the courage to catch up to her and stop her. All he could do was stand there and watch her as she turned the corner of the building out of his site. For some reason, he felt his heart fall… this wasn't fair.

"Everything okay?" Roger asked, cautiously. Everyone watched what he would do next, but he didn't say or do anything out of the ordinary. Instead, Mark just yawned and headed back into the kitchen to resume searching for a suitable snack… and they all just remained silent and then went back to what they were doing. It felt strange for all of them to be under the same roof again, minus Angel of course… but none were concerned by the fact that he still hadn't returned. Angel often went on his own all-night escapades to have fun and do his thing – something he went with a couple of them, but mostly he just went out and about on his own, giving him a chance to think and sort himself out.

"Yeah," Mark replied casually, and took a bottle of juice from bottom shelf of the fridge and slammed the door shut. He sat on the table and just drank from the bottle before handing it over to Collins who sat in the seat next to him, and he did the same. It didn't matter to Mark, since he knew that AIDS couldn't be transmitted through saliva, but he really didn't care either way.

"It's cool."

"Looks like someone had a crushed," Maureen teased, winking at Mark with that very same sparkle in her eyes that had caused him to fall in love with her to begin with… but he was so used to it now, that he found himself being immune to it. He rolled his eyes and mouthed 'fuck you' to her.  
Collins looked around the loft – it hadn't changed at all since he left, and that was probably a good thing… if he had come back to see everything or even just some things different, it probably wouldn't have been as easy to talk to them again. During that night, as he was being patched up, he managed to connect with them again – especially Mark. They spent hours talking and comforting the distraught professor and all of them found out that Collins was still one of them – they still loved him, they still wanted him in their family. But it just wasn't that easy anymore.

"Guys…" he spoke up, breaking the silence. "Umm… in the last few months," he stuttered. "Is… is it usual for him to be out so long?"

There was a brief pause and everyone started glancing at each other to see who would be the one to answer. It was then that Roger looked at the clock on the wall, and then at Mark.

"How long has he been gone?"

"I dunno… its Angel, who knows what he's doing." Mark seemed genuinely unconcerned with Angel's whereabouts, but not in a bad way. Who knew what sort of mental state their friend was in, and what would happen they had to physically bring him back to the loft. Angel wouldn't want to be in the same place with Collins, not again, and so the only seemingly logical step to take was to get Collins out of the loft. But no one wanted to do that either; they didn't want to lose him again… because if they told him to go, he would probably go for good.

"He does usually call," Maureen pushed the issue, concern taking the place of mischief in her eyes. She sat up straight on the sofa and brushed her hair from her face.

Despite everything, Collins was worried enough to have to fight the temptation to go out and find him. Angel was known to be _too_ carefree – even reckless – at times, whether it is for good reasons or bad, for better or for worse his spirit couldn't be denied its freedom and space. They all were reluctant to do anything, but with the emotional stress that even their once lively, carefree friend was in, plus the stress of the illness taking a stranglehold on his physical condition… no one had any answers.

"Guys, I'm worried."

"You only got worried when you realized he wasn't back," Collins snapped in a totally uncharacteristic fashion, and massaged his temples and could feel the slight pounding reverberating in his skull – a headache. With each pound it was getting worse, and there was no cure for the heartache he was feeling… his emotional distress only developed and gave way to reason for his physical pain, and vice versa. He stood up and rubbed his face with his hands and tried to massage the stress out of him and felt just, well… crap.

"I gotta go look for him," he stated and started towards the door while slipping his coat on. Mark caught up with him and almost leapt in front of the door, effectively blocking his path, and Collins glared menacingly at him – after all, he was generally bigger and physically tougher than Mark. If he had to force him aside, he would. But there was just too much that Collins had to do – he had to sort things out with Angel, even if it killed him. He couldn't let Angel go without first letting him know how he Collins felt – and the love he believed still existed between the two, and the reason he believed that was because… when he saw Angel's reaction to him last night, he just knew. Angel still loved him. It was a realization that had impacted him like a freight train, and it was more of a relief than anything to, to know that he wasn't just crazy in believing that something real still remained between them. Maybe a glimmer of hope wasn't too far away to imagine?

"Mark," he calmly, and in an eerily soft tone, spoke. "Move."

"Collins, _no_." Mark mimicked his tone. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"When I was here Angel never disappeared like this for so long without telling someone…"

"When you were here, Angel had no reason to disappear!" Mark challenged. Roger got to his feet and moved to a position where intervention was possible should things turn ugly. Mimi, Maureen, and Joanne also stood up when the tension started to escalate. "He's not the same person anymore…"

"Mark. I need to find him. This has gone too far."

"No thanks to you," Mark hissed, keeping his voice low so that he was out of earshot from the others. "You're the reason he's gone… he can't stand to be in the same fucking room with you."

"Guys…" Roger said, slowly moving towards them. "Come on, calm down…"

"Yeah, chill!" Maureen added.

But Mark and Collins remained focused on each other, and Collins shook his head. "You have no idea how hard this has been—"

"No idea? Fucking hell, Tom! We've all been there, you didn't just walk out on Angel - you walked out on all of us!" Mark yelled. "What did you think would happen when you came back?"

"Go to hell."

"Guys!" Roger wanted to break it up, but again he was ignored and his efforts were bearing no good result.

"And you think it was easy for me to walk away!" Collins yelled back, finding him self coming desperately close to just knocking Mark out. "You think I haven't tortured myself for what I did to him – to all of you?"

"I dunno, Collins. You tell me!"

Collins' eyes were enraged and had, now, a very dangerous gleam that, in truth, scared the hell out of all of them. He turned around and stormed over to the wall on the other side of the room, feeling like he wanted to just put his head through it… the pain would be less than what he was feeling now.

"You wanna know why!" he yelled at them all now, turning around to see all five of them with very… accusing… looks in their eyes. "You wanna know why I did what I did? Why I betrayed him? Why I fucking left?"

No one answered, not because they were afraid of enraging him further – none of them feared Collins – but because they really did want to hear his explanation. Everything about him had changed, not to the point that he was unrecognizable, but it was obvious that he had put himself through hell in the past months. And all of them had the same general feeling – he deserved it.

From the closeness that all eight of them had been, once upon a time (including Benny), to what was going now, you wouldn't recognize them emotionally. But they were still the same, just… different… as much as that doesn't make sense, that's the only explanation. Mimi idly twisted her long, dark hair around her index finger and didn't want to get involved… her mindset used to be so in touch with that of Angel's; you would think they were related if you didn't know any better. Both carefree. Both unrestrained in letting their spirits fly and spark life into everyone they knew or came in contact with. Their love of being the centre of attention. The purity of their innocence only magnified further by their youth.

She stood behind Roger, and like them all, just watched for Collins' next move. He paced back and forth, rubbing his hands together in a sort of nervous, high-strung way and his body language exposed his thought process and what he was going through – total, 100 confusion.

"Collins," Mimi spoke up. "It's cool, babe, you don't gotta explain—"

"Yeah he does," Roger finally let go of the façade, and just decided that he wanted to know the truth. "He needs to explain. Fuck all this pretentious bull shit and just spit it out, Collins. You owe us that much."

"I owe you nothing," Collins replied. "I owe _him_ everything. I lost my job, I couldn't tell Angel—"

"Why?" Maureen asked.

"Because I was a fuckin' coward, that's why! We'd lose the apartment, I'd have to leave New York anyway, and—"

"And?" came Mark's incredulous interruption. "What the hell do you mean that you'd have to leave New York anyway? You gotta be kidding…"

"Well I couldn't get work anywhere else except NYU, at least not here!" Collins finished. "I'd have to leave, and I couldn't leave him… I didn't know what to do, so I went to the club, got trashed, and was picked up by someone. Okay, I just… I can't explain it…" his voice became desperate and he struggled to find the words.

"It's just… momentarily forgetting about all that shit was exhilarating. As fucked up as it sounds, I just was drunk and wanted to forget… and the sex was something that helped me. Angel caught me and tossed me out on my ass. So I left. For him. So he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore." He finished by just slamming his fist into the wall, and not caring as the pain became a little too intense. He bit his lip and his eyes began to water. There it was. They had their explanation. Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, he choked back a sob and found his site was impaired – blurred by the collective wateriness that had overtaken his eyes.

"There's not a day that goes by when I don't hate myself for what I did… I love Angel, and I'll never stop loving him. And I hate myself for what I did, but what else can I do? What more can I put him and me through? That's why I gotta do this. NOW!" he walked towards Mark, who was still standing in front of the door. Seeing the look in Collins' eyes, he quickly stepped aside and finally let the older man leave… the door opened, and with a second, had slammed shut again, with the professor on the other side of it.

Everyone was stunned at the brooding darkness that had now clouded his personality – it was even a reminder of how Roger was, back in the days when he first met Mimi and was still having trouble moving on beyond the death of April. He was forever angry at himself for letting her get to the point of committing suicide. He had no one or no thing on his mind except her. His life was breaking down because of everything. And now, the same could be said for Collins.

Everything was silent with them now, and they were left to ponder his words… and no one thought to run after him. He was right… he and Angel needed their own space and say what they had to say to each other. Alone.

**MEANWHILE – WITH ANGEL – 2 HOURS LATER**

The world was spinning… the pain was reduced to numbness now and even a gentle tingling feeling slowly paced up and down his spine. He couldn't see anything but swirling colours of the mass contrasts that made up New York City – the sky, the buildings, the cement, the sunlight… his bright clothing…all of it was now one big mess and he could barely make out anything else. He couldn't smell anything. He couldn't taste anything but that of his own disease-ridden blood that mixed with his sweat and tears – all he could taste was his own pain and himself being drained of all life. Angel couldn't remember what happened… not clearly, at least… and he couldn't move, or breathe beyond shallowness, or focus on anything but the fact he couldn't move. A tear rolled down his blood-soaked face and all he did was just lay there.

"Fuck…" he muttered when he moved his head slightly and a headache exploded into all corners and crevasses of his brain and a ringing sound echoing in his ears. Angel didn't stand half a chance against the person who attacked him, and he could clearly remember who it was more than anything.

"Shit… God… Collins…" Angel couldn't help saying that last bit, as that was the only name he could remember that brought him so much happiness and comfort, all the pain and suffering that Collins had caused him not withstanding… he was still Angel's one and only love. If there was one face he could just see… it would be Collins.

Contrary to popular belief, when you're in a situation where you are faced with certain and very sudden death, for Angel, loved ones… friends… his life… none of that flashed before his eyes. Only two things. Death and the one person who would befall him with such a courtesy (after all the hell he had been put through). Samuel Michaels…

Angel yelped in pain when he inadvertedly kicked a garbage can that was next to him, and he realized that his leg was broken. Badly. It scared him because never before had he seen such gross outcome of violent – especially on himself.

_**FLASHBACK – THE PREVIOUS NIGHT**_

_Samuel gently jabbed the tip of the knife into Angel's lower back and Angel tensed up upon feeling the seriousness of this guy. Yes, these two knew each other very well… Angel recognized him from the club where he had caught Collins cheating, but there were other times… a few weeks before that, Collins told him about someone who had recently walked back into his life and wouldn't leave him alone. An ex boyfriend, so to speak… and Samuel hadn't taken the break up well, which had happened only a few short weeks before Collins met Angel. It hadn't really been a real relationship… just a casual thing, you know… going out for drinks, sex afterwards or whatever… anything to kill the loneliness that both men were feeling. But Samuel had always been more resistant to letting go of Collins, than the other way around…_

_They had left the park and moved rather quickly down the street and remained unsuspicious to anyone who they came across – no one paid them any attention, but Angel could hear his own heart beating so loudly… it hurt…_

_But the rest of a journey had been a blur, and seemed to go too quickly that he could barely have time to take his next breath when Samuel pushed him into a nearby alley way, just off Avenue A… not too far from the loft itself. But he knew that should he call out, he would die – and yet, if he stayed quite and allowed him self to be subjected to whatever it was Samuel wanted to do to him, he would still probably die. So… either way, he was screwed, wasn't he?_

_Angel fell back against the wall – his makeup with smudged and his wig was messed up – His clothes were now dirty from being thrown on the cold, dirty park grounds. _

"_Samuel…" his whimpered, backing up furtherer against the cold, hard wall… his attacker stood menacingly in front of him, with his eyes glazed over and looked very… inhuman. But Samuel just grabbed Angel by his top, and dragged him furtherer down the narrow alley way, until they were completely out of sight from the main road. _

_What the hell was going on? Samuel had nothing to gain from hurting Angel… at least in Angel's mind. But despite the breakup happening several weeks before Angel and Collins' chance meeting, Samuel still blamed him for everything…_

"_Shut up…" Samuel growled and literally threw Angel to the ground again… he fell against the wall, landing on his right arm. Angel bit his lip as he grabbed at his shoulder, which had been, needless to say, dislocated and very painful… just what was up with Samuel? What was he going to do? The enraged man stood over the fallen angel and wrapped his hand; his fingers, around Angel's neck, and squeezed not to the point of cutting off circulation, but certainly to the point of pain and total discomfort. He brought the knife down and held it at Angel's chest._

"_You fucked it all up…" Sam hissed, tears leaking from his eyes. Never before was he this violent, but in the past few weeks he had snapped. Being with Collins again had brought all the pain and anger back, and he knew his former lover was just back for a quick fuck and that was it…_

"_What?" Angel whimpered, but his confusion was met by Sam's fist connected with his nose – and his head slammed against the wall. Blood flowed freely from his nose and he started gasping for breath and his lips turned bright red as the blood dripped over his top lip and down onto his teeth, staining them a dark, dirty colour… the taste of his AIDS infected blood was disturbingly refreshing… even more so than water. A deep gash opened on his forehead, with the wound now turning is dark complexion in a mess of dirt, blood, and torn soft tissue…_

_Still gasping in pain and whimpering, Angel tried to back away further, holding his bloody hands in front of him to try stop Samuel from making a bigger mistake – one that could inevitably cost him his own life. _

"_Stop…" he groaned, but was silenced again when his own screams of pain took over… Samuel punched him in the stomach and sent him crashing into several garbage cans and old debris that cluttered the sides of the alley way. Angel laid in a tangle of broken glass, garbage, and barbed wire… his skin and insides were torn up and his movements visualized the struggle of a man fighting for his life with every last ounce of energy he could find. But his eyes still were wide, and his mind was unfortunately still open to register everything – every punch, every kick, every bit of blood that pilled… every bit of pain…_

"_Stop!" he managed to cough out. "ARRRGHHH!" again, Samuel paid no heed to Angel's warnings as he kicked the young man in his ribs, quite effectively breaking a couple as they both heard – and Angel felt – a couple of bones crunching. _

"_Oh God…" he cried, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, Samuel was becoming covered in the blood of an HIV + man… and he had no idea…_

"_Yeah," Sam whispered, evilly. "Pray, you sonofabitch! Pray to God! I've been doing that ever since you took him," he paused and punched Angel in the stomach, and the drag queen began spluttering blood – all over his attacker's hand which was still held a strong grasp around his throat. _

_Suddenly, Angel began to feel dizzy – as blood was blocking any little bit of air that was trying to get through, with Sam's hand still clamped around his throat, things were beginning to blacken for him. And you know what? For him at this point, death would've been a blessing… a saviour… _

_Angel's eyes widened as far as they could, and were now bloodshot from the tears and agony of being repeatedly punched. He could barely utter the words to try and warn his attacker of the danger he also faced.__  
"You don't… und…er… stand!" he cried, grabbing at Samuel's arm, but he was too strong and his powerful grip would not relent under mercy or anything else. _

"_No, I think I do," he replied, and put the knife on the ground beside him, while he reached into his back pocket for something that would make things easier – so he could do what he thought needed to be done, faster. The wound in Angel's head was now gushing and with every moment that it passed untreated, the more pain he faced… things were now grim and Angel shifted his body position side to side to try and wriggle out of Samuel's grasp, but to no avail. _

_Finding what he was looking for in his pocket, Samuel's attention was diverted for a brief moment, and Angel could see why… from his pocket, Sam had pulled a thin piece of rope that he was, as you would guess, planning to use to incapacitate Angel further… even though he was already handcuffed, Samuel intended to bind him further for some reason… Taking this opportunity, Angel's adrenaline took over from anything his brain was telling him not to do, and he brought his knee up and kneed Samuel in the groin. The larger man screamed and fell backwards, at the same time with Angel pushing him away – all in all, it was like pushing a giant boulder off your chest, that's how much heavier Samuel felt to the petite drummer._

_Seizing the moment, and pushing through the pain, Angel rolled over and staggered to his feet – it was blurry, and tipsy… he couldn't see any distinct objects in front of him, but he didn't care if there was or not. Stumbling forward and not looking behind him, Angel continued forward and tried find out where the wall was, so he could try balance himself on the wall._

'_Oh God,' his mind was screaming. 'God no… not now… I need him… he needs to know! I need him… I love him…'_

_But as soon as he felt himself gaining moment, a sudden force from behind him shoved him against the wall – Samuel had attacked him from behind and Angel screamed at the sudden shock of being thrown into a building. It was then that he felt his leg snap and he slid about halfway down the wall, when he felt Sam's fingers enclose around his neck once more and brought him back to a standing position.  
As you could imagine, Sam stood there, with his knife at Angel's throat, enraged at what just happened, and now he was resisting every temptation to slice a carotid right there and then… but he brought his face to within inches of Angel's, breathing deeply… Angel looked at him, terrified…_

_Sam's fingers dug into his neck and he gritted his teeth, prepared for death to come now… violently._

"_That was stupid, you little fucker!" he breathed. His face, his arms and hands, his torso… was all covered in Angel's blood that continued to, at a slower pace now, flow from the wound in his forehead and from his nose. A broken leg, a broken nose, a dislocated shoulder, broken ribs… none of that was compared to what was about to happen, and the attacker and victim stared at each other. _

"_Please!" Angel cried softly. "Fuck, listen to me! Stop!"_

"_Oh yeah?" Samuel whispered, sarcastically, and traced the knife blade across Angel's throat, and down his now exposed chest from when Sam had torn his shirt off during their struggle. _"_I don't think so… you took everything from me… and now I'll take everything from you…"_

"_I have nothing!" _

"_You have Collins!"  
_

"_No!" Angel cried, sobbing. His cries were met my resistance and mercilessness from his cruel tormenter, who was out seeking Angel's blood – and was getting it. A lot of it. Angel was now feeling light headed… being denied oxygen and losing a lot of blood would do that to you – but his once soft, delicate features were now gone under a mask of blood, dirt, sweat, tears, and pain… an unrecognizable face to someone who once spread the joys of love, friendship, and hope in the world. His spirit was now broken completely. _

"_No…" his regretful voice remained somewhat clear as he tried to explain. "We're… not together! I broke up with him months ago! He's not part of my life!"_

_Samuel hesitated a moment, but held his ground – he could feel the young man struggle in his grasp. _

"_But he still has you…" he whispered, and was now crying himself. "You still have his heart… he still loves you… and you still love him… and I love him! You took him from me, and then you throw him aside like he's nothing! I would treat him much better! With more love…"_

"_You can have him!" Angel scathed. The lingering taste of blood in his mouth told him to warn the man that he was covered in AIDS… but anger, and the pain, told him not to… so what if Samuel got infected? But then again… that's not the person Angel was, no matter who was hurting him… the blood covered his face and trickled down his neck – it was warm and grew cooler as it ran further down… a symbol of life itself leaving his body. The sweat mixed in with the blood, diluting the thickness of the fluid and it began to dry. Fresh blood started to flow across and cover the dry and settled blood… how much of it he had lost, he wasn't sure… but it was getting close._

_But instead, anger spread across Sam's face once more, replacing the confusion and hurt, and he pushed Angel to the ground. Angel closed his eyes and the pain shot through his spine and he could feel several more bone crunch… everything was darkening and becoming numb._

'_Collins…' the name ran through his mind on hyper speed, and his ex lover was all he could think of. He never denied that he still loved Collins… but he didn't want to – try as he might, he couldn't shake the love away… he couldn't kill the love, he couldn't even ignore it. It was in his every breath, and every tear…_

_He closed his eyes and tried to remember his friends, or something that could take his mind off what happening. Acting on impulse, right there in the alley, Samuel got down and straddled the drag queen and leaned down so that his mouth was right next to Angel's ear… and he licked it, before whispering._

"_I'll give you a taste," his creepily calm voice whispered, barely audible, "Oh what Tom and I once shared… and what you took away…"_

_His heart almost exploded at his realization of what Samuel was about to do… he could feel a hand slip under his skirt and his attacker began to gently finger the top of his leggings. Angel could still feel the knife against his throat, so he couldn't make another escape tempt no matter what…_

"_Don't…" he pleaded. "Please… please…" _

_But not attention was his words paid and Samuel's hand made its way down Angel's thigh… Collins' former boyfriend was quietly shocked at how warm and tender his Angel's skin was… and he began to massage his thigh with surprising tenderness and even care… but with Samuel straddling him, the weight was crushing his chest further, and each breath became a life and death struggle. Then, with one hand, Samuel pinned Angel's hand cuffed hands, his arms above his head, and the pain from his dislocated shoulder intensified further. _

_Angel gasped and continued to pray that it would all be over soon… Samuel began to kiss his neck and worked his way down to Angel's chest, and was forced to let go of his arms so that he could continue with what he was doing – but he continued to press the knife into Angel's skin, where his carotid artery was located, and a small but audible moan escaped his lips and he found himself becoming strangely excited by his forced actions on his victim.  
Angel continued to remain still with his eyes closed and time itself, he thought, disappeared entirely. Einstein's theory of relativity never seemed truer than it did now – every night Angel spent with Collins, the time seemed to fly by… but now, it was still, so still that it seemed almost non existent. It was all relative. Then, all of a sudden, he felt Samuel's hand slid up his leg once more, to the elastic top of the leggings that Angel loved more than anything – and were now stained in blood, dirty, and grass stains… Samuel, like Collins, was a teacher – so, on his own power trip, he felt like he really did need to teach Angel a lesson._

_The teacher of high school history now began to pull the leggings lower, exposing more skin underneath the skirt… his finger's danced and teased their way on Angel's skin, and he went back to kissing the very pretty drag queen… Angel was already half naked, due to his clothes being torn in the struggle, and that wasn't intentional – but for Samuel, he had already come this far, so why not go even further? But Angel's thoughts remained on Collins and the gang the whole time, his body quivering at every touch and kiss… each kiss made him feel more dirty and disgusted. It hurt him that Collins could have ever even wanted to be with this man, let alone have a relationship with him… but again, each kiss from Samuel, each stroke, each time he pushed himself further on the sick, cold, and injured man… it just made Angel want to feel Collins' arms around him even more._

_Samuel pressed his hips further into Angel's, his sick excitement becoming more intense every second that passed… and Angel could feel it, the impending pain; the unwanted desire of a man who had now broke him, physically – but if he did what he was about to do, nothing else would matter anymore… not even the touch of Collins' skin against his own… no one would mean anything to him anymore, and death would be his only solace. If Samuel did this, and didn't kill him… Angel would most likely do the deed himself…_

"_Even if you don't enjoy it, Angel," Samuel whispered, hoarsely. "You will feel it… you will feel more for the rest of your fucked up life…"_

'_However long that would be', he thought and felt his leggings and his skirt pulled down to just below his knees, and he turned his head to the side, with his eyes closed – he had to avert himself from what was happening, as best as he could. Collins had always been the most gentle lover with him, and now, being on the verge of becoming another rape victim statistic, all his mind would allow him to see that would bring him any comfort… was the images of that night on Christmas Eve in 1988 when he first met the love that would always consume his life. And what was even sicker than what was physically happening to him at that moment, that it took something like this to realize just how much Angel was about to lose with letting Collins go – and just how deep his love for the man actually ran. Despite the betrayal, Angel saw honesty and love in Collins' eyes… love… a deep love that had never disappeared, and so much remorse – regret…_

_Samuel moved himself so that his legs were on either side of Angel's hips and he started kissing his naval… Angel's thin body shuddered at the touch, like a biological rejection of a force that was undeniably powerful and overbearing… he was fully exposed now, and out of the corner of his left eye, he peered up to see that Samuel had removed his own shirt and was in the process of unzipping his pants. That sight alone was enough for Angel to sob openly… the physical pain… the imminent emotional torture… _

_And then, at the touch of Samuel's skin on his own groin… darkness consumed him again and his body threatened to shut down for the duration of this unspeakable act. _

"_Stop!" Angel cried, but it was too late… Sam turned him onto his back and removed the final layers of their clothes… he leaned down again._

"_You will feel it… for the rest of your life!"_

_1 HOUR LATER_

_Angel's body slammed up against the wall, completely stripped of his clothes, with exception for his skirt and the leggings which were now stained with Samuel, too, and it was an absolutely horrific sight to witness. His head hit the wall again with enough force that could possible fracture his skull… his sight was blinded by blood now and a new wound opened up at the back of his head._

_Blood ran down his chest and bag, with Samuel still in the dark as to the disease that the thick, sticky red liquid contained. He pressed his body against Angel's broken one and held the knife at his throat._

_Whimpering and crying, Angel could only stare into the evil eyes of the man who he was sure was about to take his life. Sam raised the knife above his head, and found the only motivation he had to do what he was about to – Collins. The image of that man was prominent in both their minds, but for the same reason… so, if he was gonna die now, Angel decided to do it on his terms. He coughed up some more blood, before gathering enough strength to speak what he thought would be his final words…_

"_He was right…" he hissed._

"_Who?" Sam frowned, hesitating a moment._

"_Collins… he was right…"_

_"About?"_

"_You are fucking insane… honey" Angel spat out at him, with a diva-touched attitude as best he could._

"_Oh, you motherfu—" he prepared to kill him._

"_And... you're right…" Angel continued, narrowing his eyes and spitting out some more blood that was in his mouth._

"_I love him."_

_Then, everything went black._

_**END FLASHBACK**_

Angel had been stabbed twice – once in the stomach, and once in the thigh… broken ribs, stab wounds, broken nose, broken leg, broken arm and shoulder… he felt the life slipping from him, and he hadn't known how long he had been out. But Samuel was long gone before he had woken up, and now he was lying half naked in a pile of broken glass and other dangerous debris…

"Fuck…" he sobbed, unable to move that much. Under himself, in his back, slowly, he managed to pull out, after gritting his teeth through the pain, a piece of glass that had broken through his skin, and he tossed it aside. He wiped his eyes, and looked at the back of his hand. Blood, mixed with sweat and tears… and makeup. _Great,_ he thought. _God knows how long it took to apply the makeup… _

"What's taking so long, huh?" he whispered aloud. "Am I supposed to die now? What's taking you so fucking long… or is it you want me fucked up long enough for me to repent or whatever?" Angel said, bitterly. He had believed in God once… but last night killed all that…

"Fuck you," he whispered. "I don't need you. I need him…" his eyes then closed and blackness once again consumed him. His body became limp and pale… the movement stopped.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Please be kind for this chapter, I've never written a story with this type of content and my purpose was to show Angel's strength of character and the love that still exists between him and Collins. I did the best I could with this chapter, it was very difficult to write because I am a huge rent fan, and like many of you, I have my expectations and ideas for the characters beyond the play… so please be nice when reviewing. Thanks. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

**Next chapter: Angel's apparent lifeless body is discovered.**

**Roger and Mark talk**

**Collins goes on a rampage to find the one who attacked Angel.**

**Mimi and Angel have a sweet moment.**


	5. Chapter 5

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 5**

**_SUMMARY:_ Angel's been brutally assaulted and is close to death… Collins is out looking for him… **

**Angel is discovered in the alley way.**

**Roger and Mark have a talk…**

**Benny offers Collins some help… and the two form an unlikely alliance. **

**(Note: It kinda does get a little sappy, so just warning you lol)**

* * *

**WITH COLLINS – 11:00 AM**

"You can't find him anywhere?" Julia's voice echoed concern through the receiver of the pay phone. Collins stared at the ground and kicked at the dirt… he had been searching for Angel for four hours and there was still no sign of him, which was odd considering he had checked all of the places he knew his ex lover would go… all the places that he knew the entire group frequented.

"Collins?"

"I'm here," he spoke up and checked over his shoulders. It was a beautiful, clear, warm Saturday morning… he closed his eyes and smiled when he remembered all those Saturday mornings when he would wake up in his apartment and look down to see an Angel… his Angel… lying in his arms, with a soft look on his face – one of peace. Collins mourned the loss of those days due to his own stupidity… his foolishness… deep down he knew he could go to Angel with any problem, but instead he turned to booze and Samuel – and it cost him everything in his life that mattered to him.

"You okay?" Julia asked. She had arrived home only twenty minutes ago, after first stopping off at her parent's house to have breakfast… if her professor wanted her to get back to her normal life, it wasn't about to happen. Not after what she had seen and been through with them all… it was kind of – entrancing. There was something about the whole situation that she found extraordinarily interesting, but only if she explored it at a relative distance. She had set up a doctor's appointment for later that afternoon so she could be tested for AIDS… she was sure she didn't have it, but for her absolute peace of mind, she wanted to have 100 clarity.

"I'm fine," he sighed and leaned against the phone booth. "I don't know what the hell he's done, you know? I looked everywhere I know—"

"Maybe because he doesn't wanna be found," Julia commented. "Maybe you should get one of your friends to help. Or better yet, let them go find him. I doubt he'll open up to you."

"Julia, drop the attitude, he could be hurt!"

"Well," she leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the footrest in front of her. "From what you told me, I seriously doubt that…"

"Julia!" Collins growled. "Look," he continued to look around him as he spoke. "I gotta go… I'll call you later…"

"You sure you don't need me there?"

"Yeah. Call you later." He placed the phone back on the receiver and stepped away from the phone booth and wondered what to do next. As angry as Angel was at him, he couldn't imagine Angel running off and at least not calling the others. Take a deep breath; he started walking down the street towards Avenue A, determined to not give up the search… he made a promise to Angel once that he'd never let anything bad happen to him, and he was gonna keep it. Even if Angel attacked him again and never forgave him, Collins wasn't about to let him go without telling him what he needed to hear.

"Collins!"

He turned around and saw Benny standing there… wow. It had been about six months since they had last crossed paths, and from what Collins had heard, things were the same as usual between Benny and the group.

Collins sighed and walked over to the yuppie, who was standing just outside the entrance to the loft, apparently on his way to see Mark and Roger for some reason. He smiled at him and shoved his hands in his pockets casually, but Benny extended his hand in a friendly fashion, so Collins reluctantly extended his own and shook his hand.

"Hey Benny."

"How you been?"

"Fucked."

"So I've heard," Benny smiled sympathetically – he didn't know the exact details of what happened, but from what little details he had been able to squeeze out of Mark, it was extremely nasty. He never would've suspected that Tom Collins, the ever loyal, warm and charming friend and lover would ever have the balls to cheat on the love of his life, especially with an ex boyfriend. But who was he to judge? He betrayed his friends for a girl and wealth, so he really wasn't in a position to mock or scorn Collins, or reprimand him for exploring what he defined as human nature. "It's been a while…"

"Yeah…" Collins fidgeted, wanting to get away from Benny as quickly as possible. "I just… came back to take care of a couple of things is all."

Benny raised an eyebrow. "With Angel?"

"No. Well… I had a convention to attend to… I didn't expect to be here…"

"Hey, I didn't say anything…" Benny held up his hands in a defensive position, sensing that Collins was a little too tense at the moment.

"Yeah, but I know what you're thinking… don't say it."

"What's your issue?"

"Fuck you."

"Hey, hey, hey! Play nice…"

"Why are you here, Benny?"

"I could ask you the same thing…"

"I told you why."

Benny chuckled and adjusted his suit jacket – he looked like he was on his way to a meeting or whatever. "Bullshit. It may have been a while, _Tom_, but I still know you… how's Angel taking your return?"

"Not good. He ran off last night… can't find him anywhere… I'm worried. Not that you care."

Benny frowned and approached him. "On the contrary. Why wouldn't I care?"

Collins scoffed and bit his lip. "Because you're Benny. Since when did you give a damn what happens to any of us?"

"That's not fair…"

"Neither is what you tried to do to us last year. Trying to evict Mark and Roger? You looking for some sort of concession Benny, you're talking to the wrong guy. Now excuse me, I gotta find Angel…" he walked past Benny, 'accidentally' knocking his shoulder as he walked by. Benny turned around and watched Collins walk away, and rubbed his shoulder.

"He misses you, you know…" he called out and just as he expected him to, Collins stopped in his tracks. He paused a moment before turning around to glare at the nosy son of a bitch who turned his back on them…

"What?" needless to say, curiosity and surprise is what made him stop. Benny nodded and casually strolled up to him.

"He does… everyday."

"And how would you know?"

"I've seen him. I've talked to him. Believe it or not I still talk to and hang withthe little people."

"That surprises me Benny… seeing you back here in the trenches," Collins snapped. "Didn't know your type still socialized with the poor."

"And I didn't know you would be so willing to walk away from your lover," Benny hit a very sore nerve with that one, and Collins came so close to knocking him to the ground. He just really wasn't in the mood for Benny's shit anymore. "But then again – it seems like we both didn't know each other as well as we thought."

"Yeah," Collins hissed. "I think you're right." He turned to leave again, but Benny grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around.

"Look…" he sighed. "Do you need help finding Angel?"

Collins stepped back and glared at him, suspiciously. "What? You're offering to help? Don't you have better things to do?"

"Yeah, I do," Benny stated, arrogantly. "But it just so happens, when you disappeared three months ago it was assumed you abandoned your apartment. On your lease you name Angel as your next of kin, and I need the rent from him!"

Collins laughed with bitterness… there's no way Benny would help him out of the kindness of his heart, so he was expecting some sort of ulterior motive, and it really didn't surprise him that something like this would be the reason. But then he stopped. Rent? Angel?

Collins frowned. "Angel still has the apartment?"

Benny nodded. "Yeah. Paid up two months upfront, but now I need this month's rent but I haven't been able to find him."

Collins leaned against the building, confused… He didn't expect Angel to still be living at their apartment, in a building not too far away that was also owned by Benny's father in law. He didn't expect it, and also he didn't think that Angel would be still willing to live there given the history they shared…

"I offered to let him rent out another place for half the rent," Benny continued, seemingly confused too. "But, uh…" he shook his head, thinking hard and obviously trying to wrap his mind around it. He shrugged. "Angel refused. Didn't say why… but he just… refuses to leave. I assume it's because of some intangible thing he has with the place. Something to do with you."  
Collins' head snapped in his direction and Benny smiled, charmingly. "He doesn't need to say it, Tom. The fact that he won't say it not withstanding, he won't let go of that place… it's his last link to you. Or whatever. I don't know… Mark probably knows more."

_Fuck…_ Collins thought. This was intense shit, and even reassuring to know that Angel still, if anything, had trouble letting go of what they had.

"Why did you offer him another place?" Collins asked. "Didn't think you to take pity on the scum like us."

Benny laughed again and patted Collins' shoulder. "Come on… you honestly think I'm that heartless?"

"Hell yes!"

"Really?"

"YES!"

Benny frowned. Damn…

"Well," he continued. "I don't know… if it was anyone else I doubt I would've been as generous… but I guess," his eyes and the tone of his voice softened, and somehow, Collins could see part of the old Benny scratching through – the old Benny being the man who they (Roger, Mark, Maureen, and him) used to share the loft with and struggle with the rent. "I just thought," he struggled with the words, and he looked up so that his eyes met Collins'. "We have a history," he finally said. "All of us. That's not something you can easily forget…"

Collins smiled weakly. Yep, there was still the old Benjamin Coffin buried in him, somewhere… not much, but he was there…

Standing up straight, Collins pulled his coat tighter around him. "I guess I could use the help…"  
The two exchanged smiles, in a moment that reminisced old times between them. Once upon a time they had been the closest of friends, and Benny was right. It wasn't something that any of them could easily forget.

**10 MINUTES LATER**

Benny walked alongside Collins after having parked his Range Rover in a safer place than where he had left it. Despite the moment they shared, Benny still winced at the thought of bohemians and junkies being in close proximity to his precious, and expensive, car.

The two walked through the backstreets off the main road, not really saying much except when making an active attempt to check a place out for any sign of Angel. But Collins did explain to him what had gone down the night before, and needless to say, Benny remained cool, calm, and collected, though a part of him couldn't help but wish he had been there.

"Wow…" he muttered. "That's nasty."

"You're tellin' me…" Collins agreed, stepping over a tipped over garbage can.

"So this Julia girl convinced you to try fixing things with Angel?"

"Yep."

"She convinced you it was worth a shot?"

"Yep."

"And you really thought it would work?"

"Yep."

Benny scoffed in disbelief. Collins wasn't usually that stupid, nor that brave… "She must be one hell of a girl."

Collins shrugged, his eyes still focused on the ground for some reason, like he was ashamed to be seen with Benny – like he thought he would be viewed of more of a traitor to their community than he already was.

"Mark seems to think so."

"Mark?"

"Uh-huh."

"No shit? Mark's actually got a thing for a girl other than Maureen?"

Collins rolled his eyes. "I don't think it's a 'thing', exactly. He was a little jumpy when I told him that she was going back to Mass, though."

Benny smiled, slyly. The idea that Mark would actually pursue someone other than his lost love Maureen Johnson was a feat in itself…

"Never would've guessed," he replied. "This girl hot?"

Collins looked up at him, dumbfounded. "You're asking me?"

"You know what I mean."

The professor shrugged. "For a girl, yeah, she's pretty cute. Don't think she's Mark's type though…"

"Why's that?"

"College chick."

"Ahh… so you brought your student _here_ of all places?"

"Hey, like I said, there was a convention for university students and professors. I get along with her okay; she doesn't treat me like a freak."

The two of them began walking towards an alleyway that connected to Avenue A, unaware of what lay in store for them, and continued their idle chit chat. Why life had to be so fucking complicated, was beyond Collins' comprehension… though Benny was doing very well in his own life, there was some part of him that remained connected to the spirit of bohemia – and Collins couldn't fault him, nor hate him, for that.

He felt the gentle breeze against his dark skin, and it was very cooling… refreshing… he stepped over some garbage, and could see where the junkies had been hanging out. Empty syringes, used condoms, condom packets were mingled in with decaying garbage – to any normal, respectable person would be disgusted with the environment, especially someone in Benny's class… but neither of them were affected because it was their world. As gross as it seems, for the entire group, it was their home. None of them could imagine living anywhere else… all they knew was the East Village, and beyond that they rarely ventured into other areas of New York.

As uncharacteristic as it was for Benny to be down so willing to help, walking in alleyways searching for a tenant, he really needed the rent and besides… if anyone could find the flamboyant drag queen, it was Collins. He followed closely behind the MIT professor, and saw that the alleyway led back to the main road, which was maybe two hundred yards away.

"Fuck," he muttered, carefully stepping over garbage cans and other debris, not wanting to get anything on him. "How can people live like this?"

"You lived like us once, man," Collins muttered. "For some people it's all they have… it's not easy to escape…"

"Whatever."

"_Whatever_" Collins mocked, already annoyed by him and really wondering why he agreed to let Benny be present. They continued down the alleyway, expecting to find what they had been finding through the whole way – nothing.  
Suddenly, in the distance, Collins heard something… something move. He stopped.

"Stop," he instructed, and gestured for Benny to remain still. Silence.

"Are you crazy?"

"That's beside the point," Collins shot back, and then started walking again. Maybe he just wanted to find Angel so badly that he _was_ actually beginning to hear things… but then, he heard it again and once again stopped.

"Collins, I—"

"Shut the fuck up," Collins hissed. The sound was coming from straight ahead, so he began to jog down the alleyway, searching for the source of the odd sounds. As he got closer, he recognized the sounds as someone moaning. _Oh shit…_ he thought, hoping to God that it wasn't Angel… he didn't know why he was so scared – he knew Angel could take care of himself and would never knowingly put himself in dangerous situations, but… a gut feeling told Collins that something wasn't right. That something bad had happened. Something only true love could really define.

It was then that he saw him… Collins froze when he saw the barely moving body of Angel Schunard, half naked and totally covered in bloody, lying in a pile of garbage. He fell back against the wall, shocked, and not wanting to believe what he was seeing…

"Oh no…" he muttered and burst into tears, and ran to Angel and dropped to his knees. Angel's eyes were closed, but he was conscious, barely, and his face and torso was covered in blood… the wounds on his face gapped open and were filled with dirt and sweat, infecting the wounds and causing them to swell and turn a deep purple and blue colouring… Collins could see the knife wounds, and that Angel's hands were cuffed behind his back…  
He could hear faint, indistinct, inconsistent and shallow gasps for breath; for life, and Collins looked at his chest to see the deep bruising that was sustained from Samuel's constant kicking's… his ribs were visibly broken and Angel was virtually recognizable. Benny stood a few feet away, shocked and not moving…

"ANGEL!" Collins screamed, sobbing hysterically. There was nothing that even suggested that Angel could hear him, or even knew he was there… and his lover pulled him into his arms, holding him and crying over his body. He was momentarily shocked at how cold the young drag queen was, and through his tears he began kissing him… blood was everywhere. Blood covered Angel's body, his clothes, the area around him, and now was staining Collins…

"Oh God," Collins choked up, panicking, and feeling for any signs of life. "Come on, baby… oh God, Angel, baby I'm so sorry," he sobbed, and he rested his head on Angel's shoulder… when he looked up, Benny gasped to see blood now dripped down Collins' face and the anguish that was in the man's eyes was unforgettable – an image to not be forgotten.

"Benny! 911!" Collins screamed at him, and it took a few moments for the words to click with Benny's brain, and he took off running down the alley way to find the pay phone. Collins looked at his love lying in his arms, bleeding and probably dying, and his worst fears were confirmed… Angel had never stood a chance as he was physically bound, and was half-naked. It dawned on Collins what had probably happened, and he looked down to see blood on or around Angel's leggings, particularly near the groin area… he felt the boy's thigh and found a knife wound… but upon feeling the blood, he also felt another sticky substance, and when he realized what it was, Collins let out another blood curling sob. Angel had been beaten and raped, and had spent probably the whole night out here bleeding to death, and he was really on death's doorstep

"Baby," he cried and placed his fingers on Angel's bleeding and cut lip. "Baby, I'm sorry… come on, wake up."

He obviously would get no response, and he then moved his body so he could lay his love on the ground so he could be more comfortable, but kept his arm around him. Collins removed his coat and placed it over Angel, cuddling him and whispering and pleading for him to wake up – to live. Angel made very insignificant movements, but they were enough for Collins to hold onto hope that he would live as he didn't know the significant of his wounds. Angel's head wounds were the most concerning, so Collins Placed his hand to the worst looking one, even though the blood flow had almost stopped… Angel had lost a lot of blood, and the only thing that kept him clinging to life was love…

Collins grew wearily from the intensity of his pain, and rubbed Angel's stomach and tried to physically, emotionally, and spiritually will him back to life.

"Baby… Angel… I'm sorry," he cried, and held the bleeding man close to him, though he was sure he couldn't hear him. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry about everything… I love you… I love you so much… I'm sorry for what I did; I'm sorry it took me so long to come back… I'm sorry… baby, don't leave me… please…" his words stung his heart so greatly that he felt as if he was about to pass out. He wouldn't let himself, for fear of waking up to find Angel dead…

He pressed his coat onto the knife wounds further, stopping any further blood loss, which even though was a lot, had happened slowly, so Angel had survived the knife attacks. Collins then took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gently began to wipe some of the blood from Angel's face, and it took his breath away when he could see some of his beautiful features reappear from under the horrifying mask of blood and ripped skin and soft tissue. A small smile spread across his lips and he leaned down and kissed Angel tenderly on the lips, though knew he wouldn't get a response… a kiss of life at it's most defined moment…

He then cried further, and kept repeating his lover's name and prayed for just one more chance, one more time for Angel's deep chocolate eyes to open so he could look into them and declare his love to him once again. That's all he wanted.

A lover's worst fears is to realize that the one person they love could die in a sudden and very violent way… but for that fear to be realized and on the foundation of such hateful words that Angel screamed at him, it just made the pain ten times greater. He didn't want Angel to die with them on bad terms… peace.

"Come on," Collins growled, directing his anger towards God just as Angel had done earlier that morning. "I've never asked you for anything before… don't deny me him… don't deny me his love… please…" he choked up again. "After everything, you owe me this…" He looked behind him and saw that Benny still hadn't returned yet. Seeing Angel lying there, initially, Collins had felt himself die right there and then… and then he saw his finger's moving, and then there was slight hope. But there wouldn't be much left if Benny didn't get his ass back here with the medics, and the amount of blood loss was absolutely astounding…

Angel's eyes started to flutter… they opened and he saw someone leaning over him. The mixture of numbness and pain in different parts of his body prevented him from reacting from the fear of Samuel's return, but…

As his vision became clearer, a familiar face came into focus.

"C… Collins…?" he whispered, before going into a coughing fit. Collins looked down and was shocked to see Angel was awake and looking up with him in understandable pain and confusion.

"Angel!" he cried, kissing him. "My Angel…" he smiled through his tears. "You've come back…"

But Angel didn't return the smile, and one tear rolled out of the side of his eye… he didn't blink… he didn't do anything except stare up at his lover, quivering and shaking from pain.

"I…" he stuttered and Collins grimaced as he saw the amount of pain that Angel was in – and all he wanted to do was absorb that pain himself and let Angel be free of it. "I… I'm sorry…" he managed to get out, his voice cracking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I—"

"Shhh…" Collins comforted and now tried to be strong and comforting. It was hard to be reassuring when you had the perspective of seeing all the blood of your lover spilled across the ground. He stroked Angel's cheek and kissed his forehead. "Don't speak. I'm the one who should be sorry baby; I'll never forgive myself… I love you…"

Angel coughed and struggled to breathe, but he managed to keep talking. "I never hated you, honey," he whispered and with his good arm, managed to weakly reach up and touch Collins' face. His skin was soft and warm… comforting and smooth… like it had always been. "I loved you forever… I still do… I," he stopped when he started coughing. "I just wanted you to know that…"

"No, I do... I know..." Collins choked up when realizing that Angel sounded like he was giving a deathbed statement. "Baby, Benny's calling 911, you keep hanging on…"

In his arms, Collins felt Angel started to shake more and so he held onto him tighter and applied more pressure to his wounds. Angel wanted to tell him that it was Samuel, but he didn't have the heart to upset Collins anymore than he always was… besides morphine, he just wanted Collins to be there, holding him. Whether he would live or die, neither of them knew… but at least I can say this… neither of them could deny their love any longer. Any anger Angel had was now long gone.

**WITH MARK, ROGER, AND EVERYONE**

_BANG, BANG, BANG_

Roger slammed the door opened and saw probably his least favourite person in the world standing there. Instead of speaking, he just stared blankly at Benny and waited for that yuppie scum to speak… but there something not right. Benny was standing their, with a glazed, wild panicked look in his eyes and he desperately looked like he needed to get laid or something. Maybe Muffy had finally kicked his ass out or something… one could only hope.

"Guys, something's gone down," he said while trying to catch his breath. Maureen crossed her arms over her chest and smiled out of the corner of her mouth – Benny was sweating and looked like he had just run a mile. In his suit? And now he was here asking for _their_ help?

"Aww the lap dog's been kicked out?" she said in a patronizing tone. "What happened? Muffy got tired of your bullshit, too?"

Benny ignored her and grabbed Roger's jacket… Mark, Mimi, and Joanne who had been in the kitchen, came closer to see what was going on.

"I'm not fucking kidding," he breathed. "It's Angel. He's in trouble."

**10 HOURS LATER – HOSPITAL**

The heart monitor was the only sound that told him that Angel still lived, lingering between pain and relief; life and death; this world and the next. In many ways, as Collins sat at this bedside just staring at the unconscious angel in front of him… shortly after the medics arrived, Angel had lost consciousness and Collins refused to leave his side – but after arriving, Angel had to be taken into the OR and so he had no choice. A few hours later, the surgeon had come out to tell them that the surgery had been successful, and that Angel suffered a dislocated shoulder, five broken ribs, a broken leg, a broken nose, a severe concussion, and several nasty cuts to his body and two stab wounds… all of it had been hard to swallow for them all, and Mimi and Mark had to stay at Collins' side as he broke down when he knew the full extent of Angel's injuries… but even more so when another doctor came to tell them that Angel had indeed been raped, very severely… Collins just lost it and broke down in tears, sobbing for them to forgive him and renewing his vow to never leave Angel again. Mimi was also one of the most emotional of all seven of them (yes, Benny had joined them and offered to pay for Angel's medical expenses and even a private room for him when he would leave the Intensive Care Unit- it was the first time all eight of them had been in the same place together for a long time. Too bad it was under such horrific circumstances). Angel had to have surgery on the wound to his stomach, and also to put pins into his leg to help heal the bone, but otherwise he would be okay, physically. But that provided little comfort to Collins, who could not rid himself of the guilt, and wasn't sure that he wanted to… a part of him wanted to punish him self for a long time, knowing full well that he didn't deserve Angel's love. He could only imagine the horrors that his lover's attacker had inflicted in the most brutal manner that was possible without killing him, and every time he remembered seeing Angel lying in the alley way for the first time, he would lose all self control.

When the rest of them had realized what happened, and went to see Angel… Mimi and Maureen couldn't hold their tears back as they went to Angel but had to be restrained to give him space. Even Roger and Mark were both feeling the pain of potentially losing their friend, Joanne and Benny were also affected… no one escaped unscathed, so to speak. Mimi had broken down in the alleyway, sobbing deeply, and even to some extent blaming Collins for coming back and for causing Angel to run away… she needed someone to blame right away, as was her way of dealing with the emotional toll the situation had, and Collins was the logical one to lay it all out on. Roger had held onto her, kissing and cuddling her, comforting her as much as he could, but there was only so much he could say and do. He couldn't lie to her and say that everything was gonna be okay, because all indications at the pointed to Angel's agonizing and untimely death. It wasn't until the doctor came back into the waiting room with a smile widening across his face that, for the first time, they could all release their grips they had on their own hearts, and Collins had sunk to the floor; to his knees, and thanked God for bringing his angel back to him. He was still covered in dirt and Angel's blood, and upon being told that the Angel was HIV positive, the doctor began to insist that Collins get tested. But then they revealed he had it to, and they had received odd and even dirty looks from other staff and patients… but Collins didn't have a care in the world…

Collins held Angel's hand in his own, kissing it every so often and holding it against his own face, smiling at the warmth that had returned to it. Even though the doctor said that he should physically recover, because of the brutality of the crime that had taken place, the police had to be called, against Collins' will. He'd find whoever did it and would kill the son of a bitch himself, and besides, the cops who showed up looked entirely disinterested, as if they had better things to do than to investigate the brutal assault and rape of an East Village drag queen… and who knew what the emotional state Angel would be in when he awoke, but Collins wanted to keep him as calm as possible. So as quickly as he could, he got rid of the cops…

"_Don't hold your breath for them to get back to you…_" Roger muttered, ever the cynic that he was.

But all he was just glad that the Almighty had given him a second and probably last chance to make things right… there had to be a reason for all this, whatever that reason was, he didn't care.

Collins had to have been sitting there for a good two hours, and hadn't left that seat. Even though his friends offered to take him to get some food, he refused to leave Angel's bedside, and refused to leave him. Period.

"_You need to eat, honey,_" Maureen reasoned, hugging him tenderly. It was the first time she called Collins 'honey' like she sometimes used to, in a long time… after everything he's put them all through, they were still accepting of him and willing to bring him back into their world, one that Collins wasn't even sure he had escaped. And he wasn't sure he could ever be happy anywhere else, with any other people, except these seven (Yes, even Benny – the guy did have his moments at times).

"_Not hungry,_" he replied, stretching his arms and muscles and yawned.

"_You're tired,_" Mark observed through his camera… it was his contention that the good _and_ bad times should be documented. It wouldn't be too long before they would be separated by death; by AIDS. Being one of the few survivors of the group, he wanted to capture as much as he could for those who remained…

"_I'll live._"

"_Collins…_"

"_Guys…_" Collins had looked at them all. "_I left him once… and it almost killed us both… not now. Not again._"

And that was the last of that conversation… no one could force him to eat or drink, but they remained cautious to his needs. But no one left. No one wanted to miss the moment when Angel would wake up.

True as his body was tired, Collins didn't want to sleep and he wasn't going to let himself…

He placed a tender, sweet kiss on each of Angel's fingers – his skin was soft, warm… a total contrast to how he looked earlier this morning. The blood and cuts had been cleared up, and Angel had received antibiotics to treat the infections to his wounds which the large one on his forehead and received 18 stitches, and the one at the back of his head received 21 stitches. He also had to have stitches to other cuts on his body; his chest was wrapped in a heavy bandage so his broken ribs would remain still so that they could set and be mended. The doctors had fixed his dislocated arm and his broken leg… everything that would physically heal on it's own… the stab wounds were slightly more different, but neither of them had struck any major arteries or vital organs… All in all, Angel had been cleaned up and now he looked, to Collins, beautiful – peaceful. A fallen Angel he was, but he resembled, physically, the old Angel Dumott Schunard. With all the blood and dirt cleared off his face, the colour returned to Angel's skin and the warmth began to flow through his veins – the first stages of recovery.

Collins gently stroked Angel's face and inspected him carefully… curiously…

**MEANWHILE, WITH ROGER AND MARK**

Roger and Mark walked down the hallway after telling the others that they wanted to go get some coffee, and offered to get them something… neither of them knew quite what to say to each other, except that they felt bad for not helping to find Angel. Maybe if he had been found earlier, his injuries wouldn't have been as serious as they were now – and the only comfort they had was from the knowledge that Angel would make a full physical recovery.

"I can't believe he was fucking raped…" Roger muttered, staring at the ground with his hands in his pockets as they walked.

"Yeah," Mark concurred. "I wonder if…" he trailed off, but Roger turned his head to look at him.

"What?"

Mark hesitated and fidgeted with his camera which he had turned off – a sensible decision to be made.

"If whoever did it knows Angel has AIDS… or if Angel told him…"

"Wouldn't you tell your attacker that you have AIDS?" Roger scoffed, arguing his point in the hypothetical question. He wouldn't. If someone was going to attack him like what happened with Angel (which was doubtful considering Roger wasn't exactly light or weaker like Angel), then he wouldn't tell the person… he would leave them with a constant reminder of their crime… AIDS… early death.

"I dunno," Mark admitted. "But this is Angel we're talkin' about. Even after everything that went down with Collins, he still can't bring himself to hurt anyone… I'm thinking he woulda said something."

The two of them decided not to wait for the elevator and started down the stairs to the cafeteria.

"Fuck I hate hospitals," Roger changed the subject. It was true that Angel probably would've at least tried to tell his attacker of the disease that was running through his veins. Angel's spirit may have been broken, but there's no way he lost all of his old self… he could never hurt another soul, even if that soul was trying to kill him. Angel was a true angel from God because he never wished harm on anyone, but after these past hellacious months, nothing was certain with him anymore."They remind me of the last time we were here…" he was referring to the time when Mimi's illness almost had taken her into death, but by some miracle she had live – but Roger's detesting of hospitals just grew from there.  
With Mark, it was different… he didn't hate hospitals, he just hated what could happen within its walls… the risk of death was about as much as the chance of life, and that was a risk that was just too high in his mind.

With each step down the stairs he took, Mark felt increasingly guilty for the way things panned out…when Collins left, none of them went after him or tried to keep their family together. They just assumed that he didn't want them in his life anymore, and tried to respect that wish… the fact that he had cheated on the love of his life was enough to tell both Mark and Roger that their friend had changed, and not to their liking. But maybe if they had intervened, maybe something's could've turned out differently and Angel wouldn't be laying half-dead in that ICU bed on life support.

"Mark?" Roger studied his friend who appeared lost in his own thoughts. "You okay, man?"

"Our friend was just attacked and raped in an alleyway, fuck no, I'm not okay," Mark unintentionally snapped, and Roger was slightly taken aback by his attitude.

"Whoa…" he backed up, defensively. "Chill, man. There's nothin' we could've done… you didn't do anything wrong…"

"That's just it!" Mark cried out, frustrated and they reached the ground level to the hospital. "We didn't do anything!"

"Like there's anything we could've done," Roger insisted and gestured in the direction of the cafeteria. As horrible as he felt, he was, if anything, the voice of reason out of them two… and what he was saying was true. Angel and Collins never really asked for any of their help – their interference – when it came to their relationship, and often enough had kept the happenings in their relationship as private as possible, even from their friends. "Angel and Collins didn't want our help, there's—"

"They're our friends, Rog." Mark interrupted. "It doesn't make me feel any better to think that Angel almost died because we didn't do something to keep them from falling apart. It's like 1989 all over again… all this shit starting up… and it's not like the cops are gonna do anything…"

They entered the cafeteria and looked around for somewhere to sit… after finding a corner table; Roger leaned against the wall and put his feet up on the spare seat next him. Mark put his camera equipment on the table and ran his fingers through his hair and looked around him. Families and single visitors sat at their respective tables, talking quietly, and as he imagined, no one had any look of comfort on their faces – nor distress.

"Would you be feeling as bad if it were the other way around?" Roger asked, curiously, yet casually. For him, Mark's guilt only spoke to him on one thing… the fact that Mark would remain and be on his own once the virus consumed him, Mimi, Angel, and Collins. Maureen and Joanne had their own life together, and Benny was, well… Benny… and Mark would be left by himself. Roger didn't need to be a shrink to know why the guilt was there, after all they had been friends for years… and often enough, Mark detached himself from the happenings in and around their group; ever the outsider – ever the quiet one with the camera, trying to record other people's lives and keep them close because he had no one to share his own with. So his only alternative was to record other people's lives… and that was fine by him, to an extent… but the fact that he would be left alone while those around him that he cared about would die before their prime – it hurt. So he hid in his work. Roger wasn't stupid or blind to it…

"What!" Mark seemed slightly offended by that notion.

"I mean… would you be reacting this badly if Angel had cheated on Collins?"

Mark hesitated in his response… in all honesty he probably wouldn't have reacted so negatively… he didn't know why…

"I…" he stammered. "I have no idea."

"Mark, Collins made his own choice… he has to live with the consequences, and all that crap…"

"I get it, man… but he's our buddy, and…" he sighed. "I don't know… Angel's done a lot for us. He breathed a lot of life back into us all, you know? He just doesn't seem—"

"You mean, him getting hurt by Collins will kill him… and us, too?"

Mark shrugged, down casting his eyes sadly. "I know that sounds screwed up, but—"

"Nah," Roger smiled. "You're right… you think they'll get back together?"

"Who knows…?"

The two men sat there for another ten or so minutes, thinking about what they had just discussed… it was true that Angel brought a lot of joy and love into their lives, and if his spirit could be killed, what did that mean for the rest of them? And if Collins and Angel couldn't make their relationship work… what hope was there for the rest of them, again? They always had the perfect, loving relationship that was envied so greatly, yet could rarely be matched – maybe that's what was so difficult for Mark to understand, because it had been so long since he felt the warmth of a lover's breath on his neck at night, or to feel the embrace of love or the tenderness of a kiss… maybe he had distanced himself for too long.

"Well at least some thing has come out of this shit…" Roger broke his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

He shrugged. "Collins can't leave again… he can't…"

**  
BACK WITH COLLINS AND ANGEL – 10 MINUTES LATER**

It's not like he expected anything to change… the doctor wasn't able to give an estimated time that Angel would wake up, and he was still not in the clear from anything. All they could do now, even though the prognosis was excellent, was wait and hope that everything turns out as predicted.  
Collins stretched his leg out in front of him and stood up to get the blood circulating through his lower extremities again, and looked at the clock on the wall. 9:07P PM. Great. He hadn't gotten any sleep in close to thirty hours, and now he was dead tired… but he was determined not to fall asleep, for fear of missing the exact moment when Angel's eyes opened.

He sat down and rested his head in the palm of his hands. _Okay,_ he thought, closing his eyes and leaning back against the chair. _Just resting my eyes… not sleepin'… fuck!_ _Damn it! Stay awake!_ But alas, when it came to the laws of nature versus one man's will power, the former would always emerge victorious and in the end, Collins' will power was no match for the desire to just close his lids and drift off into his subconscious for maybe even a moment's peace. "Sleep…" he told himself softly. Fuck it, he needed to regain his energy – maybe a quick nap would suffice to provide him with enough energy for a little while.

Only moments after closing his eyes did his mind began to shut down, and sleep overtook him… his resistance to stop it was nothing but a futile effort, and he started to doze off. Meanwhile, as sleep consumed his body and mind, on the bed someone else began to stir. A small moan marked the first sign of coming back to the mortal realm of Angel Schunard, since his arrival.

Angel's senses were overwhelmed for a brief moment as he was forced to become adjusted to his new surroundings. His eyes fluttered for a moment, but before they opened he could smell the intensity of anesthetics and morphine… his ears caught the solitary sound of a constant beep from next to him… and as his eyelids slowly parted, the light became bright and more distinct.

_Fuck…_ he thought.

His eyes needed time to adjust the sudden change in lighting dynamics, but slowly the focus started to become clearer. He was in the hospital, and immediately the events (as best as he could remember) of the previous night came flooding back to the forefront of his mind like a tidal wave. The beatings… the rape… Collins cradling him in his arms…

Collins. Collins? Angel started looking around for any sign of his lover, and quickly relaxed a little when he saw him asleep in the chair next to him. The surroundings were new, yet relaxing… he was alive… he was given a second chance…

"Oh God," he choked up, and looked down when he felt something touching his hand – Collins' hand was locked with his, in a firm but comfortable grasp. Angel smiled and bit his lip in confusion, not knowing what to do or who to call. He wasn't in any pain, and he saw that his leg was in a cast in traction; his right arm was also mobilized, his torso was wrapped in bandages, and his face was also covered in bandages and there were IV tubes and running in and out of his body.

_This is shitty…_ was the only thing he thought and he tried to move, but failed miserably. Like I said, he wasn't in pain – the morphine took nice care of that, its just that he lacked the energy. He knew he had lost a lot of blood that night, and he was lucky to be alive – to set things right with Collins, at least.

Sighing, frustrated, he gave up and relaxed against his pillows and turned his attention to the sleeping man beside his bed… Collins had taken a huge risk coming back, and yet he did anyway. As much as he felt he couldn't trust him, the love that shone from his eyes onto the endearing and very beautifully sculptured body that was Thomas Collins, was undeniable.

With a shaking hand, Angel slowly reached across to touch his arm, but stopped just short of it… Collins looked like he hadn't slept in days, and he actually looked at peace… he obviously had welcomed sleep, or at least his body did, because Collins was out like a light – he always had been a deep sleeper, but now he just looked totally out of the mortal world . A small smirk played across his lips and the temptation to wake up him was getting too much to resist, but he did…

"Let the baby have his bottle…" he whispered to himself, licking his lips to bring moisture back to them. He didn't wake him up, even though he wanted to… well, he want to do many things to him, in every nasty and kinky way possible… but he forced himself to put the dirty thoughts out of his mind. Blinking a couple more times to fully adjust to the light, Angel's mind was spinning with memories of what happened, and the look in Collins' eyes when he found him. Still staring at the beautiful man, Angel just wanted to kiss him so much.

He weakly turned his head sideways to get a more comfortable position to just keep staring at the man he pledged his love and life to… and he smiled weakly, just thinking. That's all he could do – think about the love he had for him. Angel's soft expression did not hide anything… no anger or fear… no spite… just love… and his thoughts reflected his love, in true Angel style...

_Damn he's fucking hot!_

_

* * *

_

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ I tried to keep Angel's character as true as possible, so I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. **

**In the next chapter: Collins and Angel reaffirm their love. Collins enlists Roger and Mark to help him track down who attacked his beloved Angel. Mimi and Angel have a very sweet moment. **


	6. Chapter 6

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 6**

**_SUMMARY:_ In this chapter, it's not over by far… Collins must now make decisions as he and Angel sort through their problems; Mimi and Angel share a tender moment; Collins is confronted by his past; and Angel tells Mimi of he didn't tell his attacker that he's HIV +… and out of fears for their safety, he refuses to say who it is. **

* * *

"Shit!" Angel could barely contain him self from screaming as a sudden rush of pain shot through his arm and up his neck. Okay – wasn't expecting that. With Collins still sleeping at his bedside, and none of the others realizing that he had awoken, Angel did the only thing he could do in his incapacitated state – with his good arm, he reached across to the bedside table and picked up the control thingy that allowed for him to call for assistance. A few seconds later, a pleasant looking nurse entered the room and immediately walked over to him and smiled… Angel returned the gesture, and smiled wearily with a mixture of fatigue, being doped up, and charm.

"Well looks like someone decided to rejoin the land of the living," she commented and checked his IV tubes and gave a quick visual check to make sure everything was in order, which it was.

"Ugh…" Angel groaned. "Come on honey we're way beyond the patronizing stage I think…"

The pretty young nurse, who looked to be no older than twenty three or twenty four, chuckled and checked a machine. "Fine, fine… so how you feeling?"

"Shitty."

"As expected."

"Isn't it your job to make sure I _don't _feel like that?"

She shrugged and winked before checking the morphine and IV drip bags. "I do what they tell me…"

Angel smiled, slyly. "Oh, stupid me, I thought you're supposed to listen to the patients!"

"Oh hell no," she jumped in. "According to the politicians and the state of public health care today, I'm not allowed to listen to patients anymore."

"That'd be fuckin' right."

"So what can I do for you?" she finally turned to him.

"Morphine, darlin'…" Angel said. "A truck load of it."

The nurse checked the bag again and noted on her clipboard that more morphine was required. This girl seemed pretty cool, and Angel hoped she would be the one attending to him – he hated hospitals, and being a patient in one just made him feel worse. It helped to have someone look after him who wasn't caught up in the pretentious bullshit politics that dictated modern health care in America these days.

"I'll get right on it, _honey,_" she winked and patted his leg (the good one), reassuringly. Before she left the room, she stopped and looked at the man who was still sleeping, looking very uncomfortable, in the seat. She then glanced back at Angel, who had since closed his eyes and him self was looking very tired and uncomfortable…

"Boyfriend, friend,or brother?" she asked, curiously. Angel opened his eyes and looked over in the direction she was.

"Hmm? Oh. None. Ex." Angel smiled again, but this time it was sadly. The nurse smiled back, sympathetically, and continued to move to leave the room.

"Tell him he shouldn't be sleeping like that. Can permanently screw up his back. I'll be right back with your morphine!"

Angel watched her leave, slightly confused at how someone could be so cheerful in a place where death was just as prominent as life… in fact, probably even more so. But then again, it would take a strong will to be able to withstand seeing human beings so ill, or in agonizing pain. He rested his head against his pillow and sighed, looking around the sterile, boring room, and thinking of all the ways he, Mimi, and Maureen could redecorate it… well, actually that wouldn't be hard, considering it was just barren and cold-looking. Angel rolled his eyes in disgust and let out a deep exhale, bored out of his mind – he wasn't in constant pain, but he was starting to feel uncomfortable and he did feel pain if he moved suddenly or shifted into a different position.

Right in front of him on the bland light blue hospital room wall, a twenty-four hour clock stared back at him, each second ticking by, mercilessly, and the growing desire to find something to do was almost overwhelming. But then again… he was half-asleep, doped up on morphine, and could barely move any part of his body without feeling the pain… he was aware of the damage done to his head and face, so he found it difficult to breathe properly at times, before remembering that because of his broken nose, he had to breathe entirely though his mouth now and that was annoying enough. But to have to lay here and know that the only reason you can bare being in conscious state was because of drugs and tractions, was beyond annoying. It was boring!

Angel wasn't thinking about his attacker… he wasn't even thinking about what had happened, or what he could've done to prevent it. And as much as he wanted to blame Collins for coming back and for causing all this shit to do now, he just didn't have the energy or the heart to do so. But none of that would matter, because he's alive. He'll recover, or so he was told by the first doctor that had walked in about two or three minutes after he awoke – and while it was good news to be spread, Angel still didn't call for his friends, despite the doctor offering him to go get them. He'd prefer them to think he still was unconscious, rather have them come in and fuss over him and question him until he went completely insane. It would serve no good or useful purpose for them or him especially.

The clock on the wall continued its constant ticking, and became rhythmically aligned with the beeping of the heart monitor. Time itself seemed to mock him and it was frustrating to not be able to move without fear of pain taking hold of him, so the only option Angel had was to remain still… remain quite… remain incapacitated. Angel felt the beads of sweat dampening his face and chest. The ticking and the beeping translated into beatings in his mind. He wasn't in pain, just uncomfortable and trying to grasp more understanding of what was happening to him… one of the most prominent things in his mind, that he could not nor would not let himself forget, was the kisses Collins gave him. He was in so much pain at that point, that reality was almost nonexistent, but he believed with all his heart that it was Collins' sweet kisses… the touch of his lips on his own, that gave Angel the life he needed to keep breathing. To keep fighting.

Angel cringed when he moved slightly so his back was in a better position for him to relax… for him to move even an inch, it required every ounce of energy he could muster as he was doped up quite a lot, and besides having the pain and discomfort, he was just plain tired. He sighed and gave up trying to fight his own body, which was just being so stubborn and not cooperating – even though he had narrowly escaped death, and he was fully aware of just how close he came, Angel was always impatient and wanting to just get up and do his thing. This was a serious inconvenience.

A soft groan interrupted his thoughts, and Angel looked over to see Collins beginning to move – his heart started to pound faster, and even smiled a little. It had been a long time since Collins had this kind of spell on Angel, and vice versa… his breath caught in his throat and momentarily, he couldn't breathe.

Collins opened his eyes and an instant rush of pain shot through his neck from his lack of moving in the past few hours.

"Oh shit…" he muttered and rubbed the back of his neck, unaware that Angel was fully awake and watching him, with slight amusement.

The college professor sighed but didn't move from his slouched position in the chair, and he just stared up at the ceiling, still not realizing that another pair of eyes was focused on him.

He still held onto Angel's hand and wouldn't let go – it was still warm and the skin was soft… the heart monitor still beeped… so he assumed nothing had change. But Angel couldn't understand why Collins wasn't looking at him, and his smile faded slightly. Okay, if Collins wouldn't look at him voluntarily, he would – force – him to. Collins rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes again and felt the headache that had plagued him the last week had come back. The stress he had been under was intense, and he was pretty sure that if things didn't start to get better soon, he would have a nervous break down or whatever – let's not forget that Collins is HIV positive too, and stress is known to speed up the effects of the disease as it ravages the immune system.

Angel smiled curiously and his eyes focused on his hand that was being held by Collins, and his smile spread into a weak grin. He then began to slightly curl his fingers, just enough for his love to feel the movement, and he got the desired effect – Collins looked up in shock and gasped, not believing what he was seeing. It took a few moments for the image of Angel smiling at him from the bed – seemingly a little stronger, and no hate in his eyes.  
Still shocked, Collins quickly moved over and sat on the bed, holding Angel's hand and arm closer to him…

"Angel…" he softly said, gazing into the young man's eyes, and didn't know what to say… there really wasn't much to be said right then, but they still had so many things to work out – but neither of them were wanting anything but each other. To Angel, Collins was looking so damn sexy that if he was physically able to, he'd do the guy right there and then. And vice versa. But it went much more than just physical lust, and the connection they shared was beyond anything that could be imagined…

Angel could feel Collins' breath on his face, and it was warm and pure. The touch of his skin made the drag queen realize just how much he missed him in his life, and that his body and soul yearned for that eternal love once more.

"Hey baby," Angel whispered back, a serious and yet soft look in his eyes – one of innocence and desire. "You came back…"

Collins bit his lip to prevent him from breaking down, but tears glistened in his eyes and made them sparkle. "I couldn't stay away if I tried," he replied. "You keep pulling me back…"

Angel held his hand, and brought it up to his own chest, gently placing Collins' hand there while being careful not to aggravate his injuries further. "Too hard to let you go," he said. "I couldn't let you go. You know how damn hard I tried?" he added in his true diva fashion, and Collins chuckled. The spark of the old Angel that he had fallen in love with was still there – and probably could never be taken away.

Collins shifted slightly on the bed and looked around him to make sure he was clear of any tubes so he wasn't obstructing anything that could endanger Angel. Surprisingly they weren't uncomfortable with each other like they thought would be, and it was actually just like the last time they had been in a bedroom, alone, together (of course, except without all the injuries and tubes and life support machines and anesthetics)… but it was the night before Angel discovered Collins and Samuel in the club, and the night they shared together was probably their most passionate, ever.

Now, Collins was gently stroking his finger across Angel's chest and lifted his hand to his mouth and kissed him. Kissing Angel's skin was what he imagined a real angel of heaven's skin would feel and taste like – pure ecstasy and innocence mixed together to create a pure and everlasting, tantalizing flavor of love.

"I'm sorry," Collins whispered and continued to kiss Angel's hand. "I didn't… I don't…" he finally looked up and his eyes met his lover's… the tears they both cried screamed more and louder than actual words could ever begin to. It was these intangible moments combined with real love that they both treasured, and what made their love the envy of the others.

"I love you, Angel… never could it be anyone else…"

Angel didn't respond with words, only with one finger did he respond by touching Collins' lip. He felt he didn't need to speak. He let the man continue… Collins needed this time to say what he needed to, and Angel would not deny him that, no matter how much he felt he didn't need to hear it. He already knew.

"I never forgive myself for what I did… never… whether you forgive me or not; whether you would ever still want me… fuck, Angel, I miss everything about you… and seeing you lying there almost killed me."

"Collins—"

"No," Collins said, his voice wavering with uncertainty, still kissing Angel's hand and then he leaned down further, and now their faces; their mouths… were within inches of each other. Sensually, he then let his lips gently graze this side of Angel's neck, sending shivers down the injured man's spine. All the pain. All the discomfort… It no longer existed. Each kiss was healing the physical torment Angel suffered, and the emotional toll that had once kept him from even leaving the apartment. Now, as he stared into Collins' dark brown, scared, yet loving eyes… as weak as he was, he suddenly felt like he could run a marathon or leap over buildings, or fly… but first, he actually had to find the strength to sit up properly.

Collins wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt, and Angel could see his body shake from the silent sobs that were obviously ripping him apart from the inside out.

"No," the older man repeated, more defiantly. Some things he had left unsaid for a while now, and he wasn't sure if this was the right time to say them, but he had to at least keep Angel from stressing or worrying about anything other than getting better. "Forget it…" he finally conceded, seeing the discomfort the drag queen was in. "We'll talk later. I'm just glad that," he paused to recollect himself before continuing. "That… I – we – have been given another chance. That is…" Collins prepared himself for the rejection because after what happened even he couldn't trust him self, and he was certainly in no position to ask for Angel to trust him again, especially in his condition. "Only if you—"

_Knock, knock_

He was interrupted by someone knocking on the door and entering the room – he and Angel both looked up to see the nurse walk in with a small try of what looked like medication and antibiotics. Angel groaned, anticipating that the next few minutes were not going to be entirely pleasant, that's why he hated hospitals. The nurse smirked when she saw him grimace at the prospect of all the medication he would be on… she then glanced at Collins and then back at Angel. Both of them had been crying so she knew she had walked in on what was probably a very delicate situation…

"Wow," she commented, stopping on the other side of Angel's bed. "Did I interrupt?"

"Always the best timing," Angel smiled and then yawned. He was incredibly exhausted but he didn't want to sleep – he was only just beginning to hear what he wanted to here from Collins for so long, even though he probably wouldn't have admitted it to himself a week ago.

"That's what they pay me for." She retorted and picked up a needle containing morphine. "And you requested my services, remember?"

"Oh I remember."

"Good, so stop complaining."

"I'm a patient; I'm allowed to complain."

"Whatever," she chuckled and tapped the needle several times to make sure that the contents were viable and ready. Angel winced when he slightly moved his leg and instantly regretted it… Collins, seeing his distress, leaned down and kissed his forehead and whispered something in his ear, inaudible to anyone but Angel – words of comfort, probably. The nurse smiled at the lovely display of affection from the man to Angel, and could guess that this was more than likely a reconciliation of some sorts… but she stayed out of it, obviously, as it was none of her business.

"You know," she told Collins as she inserted the needle into the tube to provide Angel with some much needed relief. "You need to tell your boyfriend to lay off the smart ass comments,"

"Oh, he's not—" Collins started to say, but caught himself when seeing the look on Angel's face. Neither of them needed to say it, but then again whenever they did fight or whatever, words were not usually needed for them to forgive and move on. With the situation being as serious as it was, that wasn't going to be the case here… but instead, Collins just smiled and decided to play as it went along, going along with the nurse's assumption that they were in fact back together. "Yeah, that's my Angel," he concluded. "Trust me, this isn't his worse—hey!" he was interrupted when Angel lightly elbowed him in his stomach. "Nice, Ang. Real nice."

"My arm… slipped…" Angel grinned and could almost immediately feel the effects of the magical drug that entered his system... an almost euphoric feeling swept through his body and his muscles relaxed and eased from the tenuous and slightly painful recovery process. Collins rolled his eyes.

"Slipped? Come on you can do better than that."

"Screw you, honey…"

"Not now," Collins winked and Angel bit his lip, almost blushing even. As bad as things got, their quick back-and-forth bantering and flirting was as powerful as always… both of them were quick and found enjoyment in it... it still came so naturally to them.  
The nurse finished injecting the morphine and then went about handing Angel a couple of pills and a glass of water. Not being able to use his mobilized arm, he allowed Collins to help him take the medication and he made a disgusted face afterwards.

"Well I'll leave you two boys alone," the nurse smiled and turned to Collins. "Be nice," she instructed. "He's still fragile."

"Got it."

Angel frowned and started to protest. "Fragile? Wha—fragile? Oh I'll show you frag—" he started to move, but stopped when the pain in his shoulder and stomach became too intense.

"Ahh FUCK!" he yelled and lay back down, with Collins' gentle prodding him to relax. A sudden desire to protect him was not possible, because he knew Angel's physical injuries would take time on their own.

"You try get out of that bed again and I'll hold you down, myself!"

Angel's eyes practically lit up at that suggestion. "Babe that's actually a great incentive for me to try getting up to walk." He started to move. "Maybe I can walk…" he teased and moved further to get up, but Collins firm stare just made him stay where he was and not follow through…

The nurse rolled her eyes and finished up, and then started to leave.

"Be good, guys," she teased and shut the door behind her, once again leaving Angel and Collins to themselves. The temptation to act on the attraction between them that just wouldn't die was powerful – Angel was undressing him with his eyes and just thinking of all the things he wanted to do to him, and have done to him self. Collins could see the mischievous, yet weary, glint in his eyes and it made him want him even more… but he remained strong and defiant to his own desires. Instead, he started planting soft kisses on Angel's face, careful as to not to interfere with the breathing aids and other medical aids that were running in and out of his body… it was very sensual; very romantic… and a great incentive for Angel to forgive him…

"You tease," Angel joked.

"That's usually your role," Collins whispered. "Just taking a page out of your play book…"

"My play book is off limits to everyone."

"Even me?"

"Especially you!"

"Why?"

Angel didn't respond right a way, the conversation was interrupted with him yawning and trying to blink rapidly to keep himself awake. Needless to say the medicine was working, and the discomfort was almost gone… but now all his body was telling him to do was sleep… and that, at this moment with Collins, was something he didn't want to do. Collins continued to kiss him and tenderly rubbed his chest and took extra precautions not to hurt him.

"Angel, you should sleep…"

"I'm not tired," he lied and yawned again.

"Like hell you're not," Collins replied and pulled the blankets up to Angel's chest, keeping him warm. "Let your body heal itself or whatever they say it does when you sleep. I ain't goin' anywhere…"

"What about Mass?"

"What?"

"You got a whole new life at MIT, Collins," Angel whispered – not bitterly or in any fashion of anger, but maybe in disappointment… sadness… regret. "You gotta go back, right?"

"Screw MIT. It's not a new life, just an escape from my old one… I belong here. With you." He kissed Angel's neck softly. "I love you. And I'm so sorry what I did to you, baby, I—"

"Shut up," Angel interrupted – his eyelids felt like they weighed ten tons. "Stop saying sorry… you have no idea how annoying that is."

Collins laughed weakly at Angel's transparent attempt to make him feel better, but no matter what he said, it didn't help the guilt he felt gnawing into him further and further. He had no doubt that Angel wouldn't be lying in the hospital bed fighting for his life physically and emotionally, if he had just been honest in the first place.

"I'll try," was his simple response.

"I forgave you a long time ago, Tom," he was now serious… well, as serious as Angel could be. "As angry as I was... that's how much I realised I love you... and beyond that." he spoke in true poetic and even slightly cryptic form. But what he said next was not cryptic, nor necessarily poetic. But they were true word. And truer words were never spoken...

"I love you."

Hearing those words sent Collins over the edge and he burst into tears… his head rested just next to Angel, and he just cried. Hidden emotion broke through the walls he had built to protect himself from facing the reality of it all… Angel's forgiving nature was something he couldn't understand, nor sure if he deserved it. Angel stroked the back of his head, in a reversal of roles that it was now his time to comfort and be strong… it had to have been worse for them all, he figured… after all, he was unconscious, but Collins and their friends had to deal with the reality of seeing him in a state that lingered between life and death; death teasing them and squeezing any last bit of strength out of them.

"I love you, Angel," Collins sobbed, but his voice was barely audible to the human ear. But Angel heard every word, and each word strengthened his heart and his faith… the strength of his character was only because of the love he had from his friends, and from Collins. No matter what happened next, he knew he had them to keep him going… and Collins was back for good. Now, I know you must be wondering – I mean, Angel's been beaten and raped… why isn't he more depressed or scared? Well, he is… but he really wasn't thinking about it, not at that moment. With Collins by his side, he found himself being unafraid of what may come, as stupid and as crazy as that sounds…

"You're not going anywhere?" he asked, weakly, seeking some level of confirmation and comfort.

"Never again," came the muffled reply.

Angel took those words with him into sleep, and his eyes closed and he drifted off, carried by waves of love and comfort… and morphine… into a deep slumber that, for the first time in many weeks, was one of peace.  
Getting no reply, Collins looked up to see that Angel had finally succumbed to his body's growing desires for rest… it was in sleep, he knew, that the body's recovery process was at its fastest and most effective. With the ceiling light bearing down on them, Angel really did look like his namesake… so peaceful and angelic… it didn't seem real. Collins then remembered that the others still didn't know Angel had awoken, so he figured he should maybe get some exercise and go find them, knowing that Angel would probably sleep for hours. He also had it in mind to thank Benny for all his help, as much as it would pain him to admit that Benny's presence probably helped save Angel's life… gratitude and credit must be given where it's due.

He stood beside Angel's bed, fidgeting and trying to think of what to do. But finally, he worked up the courage to leave his bedside – after giving him a soft kiss on the lips, and seeing that Angel didn't wake up as a result, he walked towards the door, with heavy thoughts on his mind.

**15 MINUTES LATER**

"He's awake!" Maureen jumped up front the couch in the waiting room, and ran over to Collins and jumped into his arms, shocking him a bit and sending him stumbling against the wall. Mark and Roger had arrived back with snacks and drinks only about five minutes before Collins came in, and everyone of them just stared at him with dark, expectant eyes.

"Yeah," Collins told her, giving her a quick hug back and then turned to face the others. "I was asleep and he woke up before me, but…"

"How is he?" Mimi interrupted, nervously. Being a junkie, in a hospital, with no fix… she was a little 'jumpy' to say the least.

"He's okay. Still weak… can't move very much, and he's tired. He's asleep again now, but…"

"But?"

"He'll be okay…"

"Did he say who did it?" Roger growled, angrily, and wanting nothing more that to kill the fucking asshole who dared to hurt his friend.

"No. I don't think he was really thinking about it… it seemed okay… as normal as Angel can get… I think he was just as happy to see me as I was to see him doing okay," Collins continued to explain and he leaned against the wall, with Maureen leaning against him with her head on his shoulder. I just don't know what I'm doing anymore."

"Well you can't leave," Mark snapped. "Not now…"

"I didn't say I was leaving, Mark!" Collins replied with an equal amount of force, and tensions started rising. Mark probably was the one who trusted Collins the least, feeling an ounce of betrayal himself when the man stormed out of the loft for the last time – and now he was back and Angel was just so willing to forgive him. Granted, he almost died, but still… he wasn't the only one Collins walked out on, and Mark was still feeling the sting of it. "I just... don't know it I can handle it again. If he can handle it..."

"Handle what?"

"Us." He confessed. "Angel has enough to deal with…"

"Sweetie there's no one he'd rather have to help him through this than you," Mimi told him. "I've heard him cry in his sleep because he wants you back. You're back in his life, ours too! You can't leave!"

"I'm not leaving! For fucks sake!" he yelled, exasperated. "I just need space is all…" he walked over to the waiting room entrance and turned around before leaving."I need air… guys, I'm not leaving. But I won't pretend it doesn't hurt." Collins then left the room with everyone staring after him… again, they didn't follow – if he wanted his space, they would give it to him.

Mimi finally let go of Roger's hand and stepped closer to the entrance… she needed her fix badly, and Roger saw it, so he walked up behind her and slipped his strong arms around her tiny waist so she wouldn't go nut.

"Let him go…" he whispered and kissed the back of her neck, causing her to shudder. She turned around and he was shocked to see a tear in her eye.

"If Angel and Collins couldn't last…" she whispered, tearfully. "What chance do we have?"

"What!"

"I mean, they had it all. Perfect relationship. Perfect love. From what I hear, from what Angel told me, perfect sex! If even perfects not enough to make them last, what hope is there for us!" there was a glint of desperation in her eyes and the reassurance she was seeking wasn't enough to cure the doubt she felt.

"Mimi, you're nuts," he rolled his eyes, not believing what he was hearing… but she made a valid point. The break up of Angel and Collins resonated through the group and indeed much of the bohemian community, like an earthquake…

But she paid no attention to his obvious lack of assertiveness in the matter, and she wondered why he wasn't as concerned.

"I'm serious!" she cried, gripping at his shirt in a desperate measure. Meanwhile, Maureen moved over to Joanne, and the two of them just held each other… Mimi's shaking fingers tangled with her wild hair and she bit her nails out of pure nervousness.

"Everyone I talked to says that Angel and Collins had the_ perfect_ relationship, and what if perfect isn't good enough? It leaves the rest of us fucking screwed, that's what!"

"You can't go comparing them to us, Mims!" Roger reasoned.

"Why not!"

"Because it's not fair on us!" he explained. "Collins went off and fucked some stranger in a club because he lost his job!"

"So?"

"So?" he was taken aback. "You honestly think I would be capable of that? Fucking hell, Mimi! You're the one who cheated on me with BENNY! OF ALL PEOPLE!" he was yelling at her, sick of her paranoid behavior. The thing with Mimi was that she and Angel were so close and shared everything with each other, and they had so much in common – their personalities just clicked, they were now like brother and sister (or maybe just sisters!) To see someone hurting – someone who she loved, it hurt her too… some may say that she was acting paranoid, but no more than she usually acted out.

Groaning out of frustration, she gently pushed herself away from Roger and followed Collins' direction towards leaving the large, open room.

"Where're you going?" Joanne asked.

"To see Angel," was the reply, and she didn't turn around to wait for a response. They all wanted to see Angel, but were instructed by medical personnel that only one visitor was allowed into the room at a time. Mimi stormed from the room and looked both ways down the long, sterile, cold hallway, and then turned right and started walking briskly towards Angel.

A few minutes later, she was standing in the doorway to Angel's room, just staring at the motionless friend that looked so peaceful and delicate… but still like an angel. His body was almost glowing in his white hospital garments under the light that shone from the ceiling. Despite his condition, Angel still looked as gorgeous as ever – it probably wasn't really possible for him to actually look bad, even when he had the hell beaten out of him.

Mimi stepped into the room, which was only slightly warmer than in the main hospital hallway, but she still wrapped her jacket tighter around her slim body as she slowly, _cautiously_, moved to Angel's bedside. She looked him up and down, seeing all the tubes and bandages… at least he didn't look like he was in pain…

She slowly reached out to touch his hand, but paused for fear of causing more damage…

"So…" she muttered, sitting down, and remembering that once she heard that people who unconscious or sleeping, even on meds, could still subconsciously hear someone talking to them… or whatever that bullshit was, Mimi hadn't exactly been paying attention at the time.

"You really fucked us up, Angel," she tucked her hair behind her ears and crossed her arms over her stomach and sat on the edge of her seat, her legs almost glued together. She hummed a basic tune and looked around at the room – not exactly a warm environment for someone who used to be all about warmth and love. No doubt Angel hated hospitals, not because he feared them, but because they were so dull and loveless, and emotionless…

Apart of Mimi was afraid to even look at her friend in such a defenseless, vulnerable position, let alone touch him. But she finally forced herself to turn her head and study the sleeping man, who was barely older than her by two or three years, who had a soft expression, one that a person would get when they were in a deep slumber that remained undisturbed. She sighed.

"Man, you have no idea," she continued and gave him a defeated smile. "You've been all over the place for months and still… the moment Collins comes back you get all fiery and passionate again. And, I can't help but wonder why… you know?"

Angel remained sleeping and his only movement was the rise and fall of his chest with every inhale and exhale of air.

"I just wish…" her eyes lowered and focused on her fidgeting hands, like she was about to make a confession."Sometimes I wish I did die last year on Christmas Eve… and yeah I know what you'd say, but to be honest… no, screw honesty, to be blunt I really wouldn't give a damn. Kinda like you and Collins. From what I heard, you were never so attached to someone before… and now, it's like you turn in the butter every time you hear his name. And, I know he hurt you, but still… no matter what, we just want our Angel back too…"

It was no secret that it the whole group felt the sting of Collins' betrayal… not only did they lose him, but in spirit they lost a lot of Angel's beautiful soul. He was just starting to get it back, not a lot, but he was just starting to shine through again when Collins and his student turned up at the Cat Scratch Club. Mimi was afraid that Angel would revert back to how he was two or three months ago, when he had completely changed from flamboyant and fiery and fun-loving, to a withdrawn, reclusive, and depressed. It was scary to see such a quick transition, and Mimi's youth and subsequent naivety was just outmatched completely. She had been through a lot of shit in her young life – being an S&M dancer, a drug addict, with AIDS… but that was her. She never had to really deal with anyone else's problems before, or rape… and it scared her to see her best friend on the receiving end of such a horrific attack.

Caught up in her own misery and confusion, Mimi didn't notice that Angel had awoken again and was now smiling at her, innocently. His mind was clouded with the drugs having a firm hold on him, and his eyes were becoming readjusted to the light once more… it had taken seconds for him to realize that Collins was no longer sitting there and that Mimi had taken his place, but the two of them still exhibited the same emotion and distress… guilt, anger… self-pity?

"Hey baby," he whispered serenely, and Mimi's head jolted up, stunned.

"Fuck," she grasped at her chest and Angel laughed weakly and reached out his hand to her, which she gladly took in her own."Nice, Ang. Thanks."

"Any…" he was cut off by him self, coughing a few times, and then continued. "… Time."

"So… how you doin'?"

"Can't…" he breathed. "Complain. Still breathin', I guess that's something," he gave her a small smile that allowed a touch of the old Angel Dumott Schunard to shine through for just a second, in which Mimi caught a glimpse.

"What about you, Mimi? You okay, girl?"

"Same as usual."

"So you're worried that Roger's gonna leave you?"

Her eyes widened. "You heard—you were awake?"

"Well of course… honey, who do you take me for? My girl's hurting, of course I'm listening," Angel told her and squeezed her hand."And for your information, Collins and I have unfinished business with each other, that's why it's so hard to deal with at the moment," he stuck his tongue out at her, trying to lift Mimi's spirits even just a little.

"It's cool," she assured him. "Forget it. No big deal… it's just what happened with you two kinda affected us too… and if you and Collins were considered the perfect couple, and this happened… what chance is there for me and Roger?"

Angel pushed the button next to his bed, which raised the bed so he could sit up a little more.

"You and Roger are way different from us… you and Roger had your problems, and you both came through them in the end… Collins and me, well… I guess we just learned that nothings perfect," he paused. "But hey, he comes pretty damn close…"

Mimi gave a soft laugh. That's their Angel, alright. "So… you two are getting back together? Even after what he did… you still can love him again?"

"I don't think I ever did… or could… stop loving him. But I don't know if I can trust him. I know things seem real crappy at the moment, Mimi… but things will come good, I promise."

She shook her head.

"I thought I was supposed to be comforting you, or something," she smiled, sarcastically. Mimi hesitated and debated with herself as to whether she should ask this next question…

"Angel?"

"Yup?"

"Why aren't you depressed? Scared? Why aren't you telling people who attacked you… you do know, right?"

Angel could feel the lump growing in his throat, and he had to swallow it to keep thinking clearly… he didn't really want to think about it. Upon waking for the first time, all he could think about was what happened with Samuel, and the tears were of fear and of regret and of pain. He wanted to scream Samuel's name from the rooftops and felt like he would never recover. But for some reason, all that disappeared the moment he saw Collins sleeping next to him – and it dawned on him that his ex lover was not going to leave him again. Since then, he had forgotten about how and why he was in the hospital, and just focused on who was with him… maybe that was a mistake, but it wasn't until Mimi just brought it up that 'how' and 'why' he was there, came to the forefront of his mind. His face fell, and Mimi saw a bit of fear take a hold of him and he tensed up.

"Ang, I'm sorry—"

"I don't know who did it," he quickly told her and his hands began to shake… he felt tears threatening to escape his eyes, and his lips quivered. A sudden rushed desire to have Collins back with him came to him, and he tried to hold himself together…

By Angel's logic, if he told her that it was Collins' ex boyfriend that attacked and raped him, she'd tell Collins… it would make things worse, and Collins would hunt down Samuel and do something that would probably end up giving him a life sentence. Not that he wouldn't try to do it anyway, but Angel just wanted to forget it… forget that night, forget the pain… remembering it was more painful than the physical brutality of the crime itself. He couldn't tell them it was Samuel, out of being scared that Samuel might come back and hurt one or more of them… and there was that continued risk to him self if he talked, too. Even if he hadn't known his attacker, he's probably still be reluctant to identify him, but because this was someone who had once had the heart of the man he loved – this was personal. And personal usually meant that the person who did the attacking wouldn't be scared to try again until he achieved his goal.

"It hurt, Mims," he started to cry and covered his mouth to try and muffle the sounds of his sobs, and Mimi sat on the bed in nearly the same spot that Collins had been sitting in only minutes earlier. It broke her heart to have made him this upset (and he had every right to be!), but these questions were gonna come up sooner or later, and Angel wouldn't be able to run from them forever.

"The pain won't go away and I'm gonna have these ugly-ass scars to prove it! To remind me!" he sobbed more openly now.

_Shit,_ Mimi thought and inside, she was panicking. Making an ICU patient cry uncontrollably was probably not the best thing to do… what, with the stress and all that…

"It was… fuck!" Angel cried and closed his eyes tightly as he remembered, vividly, some of what happened to him. The punches. When he was thrown up against the wall. The knife against his throat. Samuel kissing him. The disgust he felt.

"I…" he stammered and gripped Mimi's arm, and he looked up at her. The moment their eyes met, Mimi felt her heart wrench… so much pain was in Angel's eyes, and she had the gut feeling that he was hiding something that he desperately wanted to tell her. She got the feeling that he knew who attacked him… but she didn't dare push him any further. Tears now stained his face and he was coming close to breaking into hysterics. Feeling overwhelmed, Mimi didn't know what to do…

"What, babe? What is it?" she pressed, carefully.

Angel's beautiful brown eyes sparkled under the light, which was reflected off his tears. He looked so innocent, and now… so defeated."I didn't tell him I have AIDS… I didn't tell him… he did his thing, and he had no idea…"

"Well… does it matter? I mean… doesn't he have it coming?"

"I—I tried, Mimi! I tried! I can't do that to people; no one deserves to have this running through their veins—"

"Angel, he fucking raped you!"

"I know!" Angel replied, his voice cracking. "So why do I feel like shit? Why do I feel guilty?"

It was a genuine question that was tinted with confusion, but Mimi probably wasn't the best person to be asking these kinds of things.

"Oh God," he continued in a whisper and looked up at the ceiling. "I was so scared… so scared… I thought I was gonna die. I wanted to die. And all I wanted was to see Collins once last time, to tell him that I love him… and you guys… and all that stuff they say about family and friends and your life flashing before your eyes before you die is complete bullshit! All I could think about was that knife, the next blow… death!" Angel realized he had come close to revealing Samuel's name, but had caught himself just in time.

"Death… I wanted it to come! I was silently begging for God to let me die there and then! All I wanted to do was die! And waking up, for a split second before I saw Collins sleeping there," his eyes quickly gestured, to her, where Collins had been sitting earlier that evening.

"I still just wanted to die! I laid here, with my eyes closed, just praying for Him to take me now and let the pain die! And then I woke up and saw Collins… Collins saved me! He still loves me, and he wouldn't leave me! And he made me forget… and I felt the love again, Mimi!" the emotional turmoil was now leaving his system, saying things he wouldn't dare say to Collins just yet. Not until he Angel was well enough so they could have a serious talk."And I just want to forget now…"

Mimi listened to his pained words that dug into her heart… there was still something else he wasn't telling her… like who had attacked him…, and she wanted to ask him about it, but ultimately decided not to. She just held his hand as he continued to talk.

"I was so scared… and it's been so hard to think about forgiving Collins… but now, I can't help it, you know? I love him too much to let him go, and Mims, if you could've seen the love in his eyes… we fell in love all over again, I know it! I could feel it in my bones…" he finally looked in her eyes again."I love you, Mims… you know that, right?"

"Of course, Ang!" Mimi told him, speaking in a tone that resonated her disbelief in him actually asking that question."We all love you!"

"I just… I need time, is all…"

"Time for what?"

Angel shook his head and looked out the window into the darkness. "To find me again."

**MEANWHILE, WITH COLLINS JUST OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL**

He stood outside, in the fairly innocuous area just behind the main wall to the entrance, where he could just rest against the wall and think for a while. He wished he had a cigarette or something that could just calm his nerves. He got the same feeling Mimi was getting, which was that Angel was purposefully distracting him self from having to face the reality of what happened, not because it happened, but because he knew who did it. That was the only thing Collins couldn't work out, because Angel was never one to steer away from justice and always was one to pursue the right thing and preach to others about doing the right thing for themselves, and each other, because rarely did anyone from the outside understand them and didn't judge them. But now Collins couldn't shake the nagging voice in the back of his head that was telling him that Angel knew something that he wasn't willing to share, at least with him… Angel had always been keen to make sure his lover was happy and not worrying about him and his health. Now, he had no choice.

"Maybe one of the other's can talk sense into him," he muttered to himself. The only reason he said it aloud was because maybe it could help him convince him self of his own words.

There was something about New York air that gave him an overwhelming sense of belonging that he couldn't find in Massachusetts, no matter how good he was at his job or how popular he was with his students. It was that thought that suddenly made him remember the role Julia played in all of this… maybe this was _her_ fault. If she hadn't stopped the car and forced him to go in the club to find Angel, maybe this never would've happened… Angel wouldn't be destroyed as he was.

He kicked the dirt with his shoe and pouted his lips in a state of thoughtfulness and pondered his next move.

"Thinking hard?"

He lifted his head and froze at who he saw walking towards him from across the parking lot. Samuel Michaels. It had been more than two years since he had felt anything remotely towards the man, but only months ago did they have their last rendezvous at the club. The sight of him now, and looking as _cheerful_ as he was, sickened Collins to his gut. Samuel had never gotten over their breakup, and had knowingly taken advantage of him during one of his most vulnerable times, and was willing to destroy him for it. What sick games he was playing now, it wouldn't fly with Collins now. No way.

He didn't realize though… or at least, he couldn't see it at the moment, and make the connection as to Samuel's sudden re-emergence just as Angel, whom he hated with a passion, was hospitalized from being assaulted and rape. Needless to say, Samuel's sick sexual appetite served to punish as well as pleasure… it didn't matter to him, as long as he got his desires and his perceived justifiable desires and needs. And so he punished Angel almost to death, though expected not for him to live, in which he regretted that decision to not finish him off. Never before had he held the desire to kill a man, and wasn't sure of himself as he brought the knife down to pierce Angel's dark, yet smooth, skin. But he did what he had to do for what he felt was self preservation and to get what he thought he deserved.

Collins felt the anger rising in him and he curled his hand into a fist, preparing to take the son of a bitch out if given just the slightest reason to do so.

"Samuel," he growled, and stood up straight, all his muscles tensing. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ The confrontation between Collins and Samuel continues. Roger finds out who attacked Angel. Samuel realizes he has probably contracted AIDS and seeks revenge again against Angel. Julia returns to New York. **

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 7**

**_SUMMARY_: In this chapter, the confrontation continues between Collins and Samuel; Roger finds out who attacked Angel.**

* * *

"What?" Samuel acted innocent and casually strolled up to him, with his hands in his pockets. But seeing Collins leaned against the wall as he was, he had the instant desire to jump him right there and then… but he decided, wisely, to play this out slowly.

"I'm here visiting –" he paused. "A friend… that's all." He gave Collins his most charming smile, but found that it remained ineffective against him. The professor just glared at him and he could see the pain in his eyes… a part of Samuel flinched and wondered if Collins suspected him in what happened with Angel. He let his eyes explore the physical being that was encapsulated in beauty and almost perfect physical condition of a man who looked so normal, yet underneath such a first impression, was the brooding and very abnormal person that was Tom Collins. But it was in all his physical and mental glory that had first attracted Samuel to him, in which he Collins would forever feel would be his one fatal flaw. Lust over took reason. Lust led to comfort, which Samuel probably mistook for passion and love, and so began the dangerous game he started to play without Collins' knowledge, an endless game of cat and mouse which could turn deadly should the possessive and even obsessive Samuel Michaels fail to attain what he wants.

"Look man, stay the hell away from me," Collins challenged, his eyes a blazing red. "I want nothing to do, and got nothing to say to you."

"Oooh, I love it when you get angry…" Sam teased and stepped closer to him, seductively, and so Collins instinctively took a step back – Sam was nothing but trouble for him, he knew, and he also knew of the dangerous dislike Sam had for Angel, too… yet, being overcome with anger at the sight of him, he failed to make the seemingly obvious connection at that point. After having backed him up against the wall, Samuel smiled, thinking that this was how it should be… but he was still curious as to why Collins was here, assuming that Angel hadn't died when he knifed him.

"So, uh, why are you here?" he asked the obvious question and leaned against the wall next to Collins, who immediately shifted his position to stand away from the blood-sucking leech.

"None of your damn business!"

"I just worry about you is all, darling," Sam assured him. "You're lookin' kind of stressed there…" he tried moving closer, but this time Collins physically pushed him away, knowing that Sam wasn't going to get the subtle hints… You may wonder as to why Collins wasn't beating the shit out of him right there and then, and suffice to say, it was mainly out of guilt. As much as he hated Sam, and really wanted to shove his head through the thick brick wall of the hospital, he couldn't actually blame him for everything that happened and he still wasn't aware of what Sam had done to Angel – that _he_ was in fact the one who attacked and raped him – and he still felt guilt. Sam had propositioned him in the club one evening, and Collins accepted. That was it.

"Fuck you, Sam. We're over with!" He snapped. "You and I are nothing; we always were…"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Sam smiled and raised his hands up defensively. "No need to get upset, baby. I understand you're hurting right now… what's up?"

"Angel was attacked. And raped," Collins' eyes narrowed and darkened. "And he barely survived and is hanging onto his life… because of me. So yeah, I'm pissed off, and am actually looking for someone to take my frustrations out on, so if you don't get the hell away from me I will beat the shit outta you!"

Samuel relaxed a little more when he realized that Angel had said nothing of who attacked him, which was probably a smart move… but now he had confirmation that Angel was still alive, so he debated whether or not it should stay that way. _I'd have to be a fucking idiot to go after him now…_ his mind reasoned with him. _He won't say anything… to protect Collins, he won't say anything…_

But the risk was now forefront in his mind, and Collins was still getting more edgy, and more ready to snap. He reached out to touch Collins' arm, but the older man grabbed his wrist and sharply twisted his arm… Sam yelped and was slammed up against the wall, in much the same fashion he had done to Angel the night before. Collin stepped up behind him so closely, that his breath caused the hairs at the back of Sam's neck to stand up, which actually he found quite a turn on.

"You son of a bitch!" Collins hissed, using his bigger physical stature to keep Sam against the wall, and he began to struggle under the force of the pressure he was applying.

"I realize what I did to Angel, and it almost killed us both… you and I have nothing, you are nothing. I love Angel, and I'm damn sure never gonna leave him again. I almost lost everything once. Not again. You understand?"

"Collins, baby, I—"

"No!" He growled. "No 'Collins, baby' nothing! You're gonna leave me and Angel alone, get it? I never wanna see your face again. You understanding me?"

Sam gritted his teeth when Collins applied more pressure to his arm, which was already in a physically painful position behind his back, but he didn't want to relent… he wasn't prepared to give Collins up without a fight.

"But I lo—"

"Don't say love, please don't say love… Say it and I'll snap your neck!"

Sam managed a weak smile at that thought. "No," he defied. "You don't have the guts, Tom… you know you could never take a human life…" but he was cut short when Collins pulled his arm further, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process.

"You really wanna be tempting fate right now, Sammy?" Collins asked. "My best friend, my lover, is lying in that hospital bed fighting for his life in agonizing pain. I'm not who I used to be; you can't walk all over me anymore… I love Angel. I'll say it as long as it takes for it to get through to you… You and I are NOTHING! There is nothing I wouldn't do for him, and if it means sending you to the ER sucking air through a tube, then so be it… but you will not come between us again…"

"Argh!" Sam whimpered and bit his lip, and starting sweating from the intensity of the situation, and not in a good way. To hear Collins spew such hateful words at him was only to deepen his hatred of Angel further, and his desire to finish the bitch off for good, even if it meant he didn't get Collins… at least Angel wouldn't have the satisfaction of him either. What good is love if one of the lovers is dead? But again, he knew the risks of trying to get Angel again now were much higher and the drag queen would be more willing to talk if he knew he, or his lover or friends, would be in potential harm.

"Okay, okay!" he yelled, conceding defeat for now. "Okay, we're done, I'll leave you alone!"

It pained him greatly to verbally place a restraining order on him self to stay away from the man he loved, but the physical pressure Collins held against him threatened to cause him to pass out. He finally felt the pressure ease off him and the other man backed off and walked away without so much as a second glance, and he turned to face him, leaning against the wall panting and sweating, gripping at his shoulder and rubbing it in attempts to get the circulation flowing again to kill the pain.

"Fuck…" he muttered and slid down to the ground with his back against the wall as Collins' brisk walk created more distance between them.

"Hey!" he called after him, but he still didn't stop. "I didn't force you to cheat!". That did. Collins stopped dead in his track and turned around, shocked to hear Samuel's very obvious attempt to bait him… and you know what? He was more than willing to take the bait as he wanted just one excuse to make Sam bleed… one excuse was all he wanted, and now he had it.

"Don't tell me we didn't have something, Tom!"

That was it… the final straw that broke the camel's back and Collins stormed back over to him and towered over Sam… and instantly Sam regretted challenging him, for his emotional distress was enough to send him over the edge, for sure…  
Collins reached down and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him up with relative ease.

"Once upon a time," he calmly said. "There were two men… who never had the joy of experiencing love… and then they found each other…" he dictated his words in a 'storybook' connotation, before smirking.

"You were merely a compensation for what I lacked at the time."

"And that was?"

"My Angel." Without having thrown a punch, much to the surprise of them both, Collins let him go and maturely, and wisely, decided to walk away. As each step he took distanced himself further from his past, Collins wondered why he just hadn't killed him right there and then, though we all know that isn't the type of person Collins is. Generally, though all the bad shit that went down had tested his limits, he was still the same loyal, warm, gentle man that he always had been… no aspect of his personality had changed drastically. However, even now, it had to be pondered as to why he wouldn't have let human nature taken over, but in essence a part of him was glad he was just able to walk away. And if only he had seen the scowl on Samuel's face as he continued to walk away, it just would've given him even greater self-satisfaction.

**MEANWHILE, WITH ROGER AND ANGEL…**

Angel had convinced Mimi to find Roger and for them to talk about what was happening, which she did… if there was really only one person who could convince Mimi to do anything that she normally wouldn't otherwise do, or think to do, on her own, it was Angel. The voice of an angel; the voice of reason; the voice of love, fun and life… even after being nearly beaten to death, his instinctive ness to continue breathe life into this group of bohemians who had accepted and loved him as any other member of their 'family', was just natural. Now, Roger was at his side in his turn to visit, and he was determined to be there for Angel and not the other way around… though it was something easier set in theory than actually put into practice, as Angel was always the one who saw light at the end of the tunnel and knew how to keep everyone happy and entertained.  
And now, for Roger to see him lying there so defenseless, it did hurt… it cut deep, even for him… who would've ever thought something like this could happen to someone so pure and good? And he knew it all happened because Collins had come back into the picture, and despite Angel's apparent spark from having him back in their world, Roger wasn't entirely sure it was the best situation for any of them.

Angel watched the television with a look of sudden confusion… watching these boring day time soaps provided him with a little insight into why people like him were so misunderstood – honestly, it was like someone entering a foreign country and trying to learn the new language and culture from square one… all it was, was confusing and just overwhelming.

"I don't get it," he scrunched up his face, as best he could, in disgust, and Roger stifled a small laugh, amused at Angel's apparent confused predicament.

"Yeah? I don't think any of us do," he replied and picked up a magazine. He was also there to keep Angel company while Collins went off to think on his own for a while…"Fucking pretentious bullshit I can live without…"

"No, I mean that shirt!" Angel responded, tilting his head to see the object of his focus in a better way."It looks at least ten years old! With that Armani suit? What were they thinking, dammit? So not even in the same league…"

Roger burst out laughing and saw Angel's serious expression, and he seemed genuinely confused about an apparent crime of fashion that had been committed. Turning the television on had been a great distraction from everything for him, although he knew that Roger wanted to talk to him about this also. The problem was, he wasn't going to say anything… because if he did, if he thought about it, if he allowed himself to explain to Roger what happened as he did with Mimi… he would lose any little self control he had left.

Angel narrowed his eyes and shook his head, and Roger could see that he was silently thinking up ways he could improve the fashion on the show, disregarding the crappy storylines and the show's surrounding of the rich and powerful – complete opposites to them, hence the idea that it was like speaking and studying a foreign language.

"I like her shoes, though…" Angel muttered, to no one in particular, and accepted the straw that protruded from the side of a cup of water that Roger was offering him. With his mouth momentarily distracted by the rush of the cool life substance that ran down his throat, his eyes remained fixed on the small television set.

The two characters were arguing over some nonsense about the lady sleeping her husband's brother and becoming pregnant or whatever – those usual nonsensical, over-the-top, and repetitive story lines that barely ignited interest, only longevity of the show.

"What do people see in this?" Roger wondered, as Angel indicated he was done with the water, and he put the cup on the side table.

"Money. Power. Sex. Family. Hey, I got two out of four, not bad…" Angel grinned at this realization and weakly scratched the side of his face. Roger raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair."Maybe I can get a part on the show!"

"What two things are they?"

"Sex and family," Angel immediately replied. "I got you all... you guys are my family…"

"And the sex?"

"Oh I'll have that too, as soon as I get out of this fucking bed! I'm sure Collins would gladly oblige…"

Roger rolled his eyes and rested his hands on top of his head, flicking strands of his longish dirty blonde hair out of the way of his eyes.

"So you still want him?"

"I still got trust issues with him, but hell yeah I still want him... I love him, you know? And I have ideas of what I'm gonna do to him, like—" but Roger held up his hand and made a disgusted face.

"Dude, stop! No more!" he protested, not particularly keen on learning Angel's twisted sexual desires with Collins... it was pretty common knowledge that those two were more likely to be more open to experimenting, especially Angel… so the very thought made him shudder, and just wanted to leave the issue at that – if Angel could regain the love and trust that once bonded him with Collins, then so be it."Really, I don't need to know!"

"Suit yourself," Angel shrugged, nonchalantly, and then smirked and looked at him with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes."But you should know… a lot of the stuff we do were ideas we got from Mimi."

"What!"

"Yeah… she's actually a lot more dirty than I thought. Just warning you! But then again… I gave ideas to her, too. So don't kill me if she tries anything new, it won't hurt you," he paused and thought about that for another second, before adding, "… Well… except maybe the—"

"Okay, stop!" Roger intervened, quickly, not liking the embarrassing direction this conversation was going. Angel didn't seem disturbed at all about it, but then again, he's a HIV + drag queen who is pretty much one of the , if not the, most quirkiest people he had ever met and wasn't shy about who he was, including his interest in exploring new options, to put it politely. "Angel can we please stop talking about my sex life?"

"We're not. We're talking about Mimi's."

"Yeah," Roger scoffed and flipped the magazine open. "And her sex life is pretty much the same as mine, so stop. Now." He was slightly disturbed at how much Angel knew about the intimate details between him and Mimi… and he made a mental note to talk to her about it later. He knew those two were close, but honestly, their sex lives? Didn't they have more important things like shoes and fashion to talk about?

"Fine," Angel smiled and bit his lip. "But," he added. "From what Mimi's told me, you got nothing to worry about, Rog."

"ANGEL!"

"Okay!" he teased. "I'm sorry… sorry!" he let the subject drop… he knew full well how defensive Roger could be, and he didn't want to cause anymore problems for Mimi, with him, so he just dropped the issue completely."Remind me again why I ever brought it up?"

"I dunno," Roger shrugged. "You were complaining about the fashion on T.V…" it seemed a very strange segue from talking about fashion, to their sex lives, but with Angel, even on morphine, anything was possible.

"Oh yeah! I'd so rock their world… I'd do better."

"I'm sure you would."

"I would!"

"I believe you!" Roger laughed and shook his head. "But I doubt they'd know what they'd be in for."

"You better believe it." Angel yawned and could feel fatigue setting in quickly again… all the medication were really starting to take a hold of him again, and his eyes starting dropping. He began to wonder where Collins was, wanting for him to be at his side, even for a little protection… but unfortunately, when he thought of Collins, the events of the night before; of Samuel, came to him. Blinking away tears, he took a deep breath and settled himself into a comfortable position where he'd be able to get a decent night sleep, as the time read it was coming close to midnight.

The confusion of not knowing what to feel, or what was appropriate for him to feel, had died down a little and now it was like he was on an emotional rollercoaster – one minute he'd be just glad to be alive and with his friends, and the next thing he knew, memories, fear, and trauma turned him into an emotional wreck… and now, it was the latter… for once Samuel's image took over his mind, it was hard for him to relinquish it – for the sheer terror of what happened still rung clearly inside him. And Samuel was right. He would feel him; the touch of him – the taste of his kisses; every single part of his body that Samuel had violated would forever hold the scars to what really happened that night, and it scared the hell out of Angel to know that every time he would look in a mirror, he'd be reminded of that night. An endless grip on his psyche that wouldn't let go.

"You okay, Ang?" Rog sat up straight and put the magazine to his side, pulling the chair closer to the bed when he saw that Angel had grown quiet and distant. He was told to expect something like this, by Collins and the nurse who was on duty."Need anything?"

"Nope," Angel smiled, tense, but ended up gripping the side of the bed, not from pain, but as a stress relief… he didn't want to cry anymore. He didn't want to scream, or shout, or curse; he didn't want to have to face something that terrified him to death… the one person who tried to rip his life to shreds almost succeeded – he probably would've if it were a complete stranger who attacked him – but Samuel wanted to torture him and enjoy the moment. He wanted to punish Angel not for his own purposes, but because he legitimately felt Angel had wronged him… and so he wanted to punish him, until he got it through to him just how much he had destroyed what Sam thought he had with Collins.

"Hey, man…" Roger tried his best to understand… but how do you try talk to a rape victim on their level? He couldn't say that he understood, because that was a blatant and patronizing lie. He couldn't say that things would be okay, because there was a strong chance that the next few months would be just as, if not more, difficult for Angel to deal with… and the horrific memories were what he had to carry with him for the rest of his life.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No," Angel firmly replied and wiped his eyes on his hospital gown. "I just," he sighed. "I'm tired." He finally admitted his physical deterioration and exhaustion, and Roger nodded.

"That's cool, Ang… you sleep all you want."

"Roger?" Angel's voice turned from strong-willed and full of attitude, to one of weakness… innocence… a child's naivety mingled with his fear.

"Yeah?"

"Will, um… will you stay? Until Collins gets back?"

"Sure, Ang. I won't go anywhere."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Angel closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, and he heard Roger relaxing in the chair and the ruffling of pages as he sort to distract himself. It was only seconds later when Angel began to drift off under the influence of the hospital-induced drugs, and a pleasant, even euphoric feeling spread through his veins, and it was in those moments when he's lingering between the conscious and subconscious worlds, where he felt most at peace… most at rest.

10 MINUTES LATER

With the volume on mute, Roger casually flicked through the television channels in a state of complete boredom. A few minutes earlier, the rest of the group came into the room to see how Angel was doing… it was late, so they reluctantly left to go back to the loft, and Roger agreed to stay with Angel until Collins came back. None of them were comfortable with leaving the two of them alone, but it was time they really had no choice. Things were getting complicated as time went on… and those two just needed the time to sort through things on their own.

He sighed and looked out of the partially open door that connected Angel's private ICU room (thanks to Benny)… it was dark except for a few hall lights and ones that were stationed at the nurses desk. And it was quite. Ten minutes was a long time in a hospital; it can be the difference between life and death… and here it was no different. Since it was late anyway, there wasn't any more or less activity going on since, really, when they arrived at the hospital. But since Angel was sleeping, seemingly very well, and the others had decided to retreat back to the loft for the night (there was no use all of them losing sleep when they all weren't actually allowed to see him at once, and Angel was constantly drifting in and out of sleep).

Roger turned the page of the old, worn and torn magazine – not really paying any attention to the content, but more so he was just thinking… about Mimi; about what she said. Her emotional and physical problems not withstanding, her concerns could be described as legitimate ones.

But he came back to reality when he heard some soft mumble coming from Angel, and he looked up thinking that Angel was awake, uncomfortable, in pain, or whatever.

"Angel?" he stood up and leaned over him… but to his confusion, Angel remained sleeping.

_Don't start talking in your sleep, Ang_, he thought and sat back down. The last thing he wanted was Angel to start going off and talking about Collins in his _sleep_ where he wasn't aware, or in control of what he was saying. Knowing Angel, he had Collins on the brain… that, or clothes, or whatever…

He kept watching to see what would happen next, and saw Angel move his head, slightly, already dreaming. He mumbled, incoherently, again so Roger leaned forward and strained to hear if he could make out what was being said – why was it so hard? There were no other sounds other than the heart monitor and breathing machine…

"No…" was the first word he could make out. Angel sounded in distress, but Roger did not dare wake him. "Fuck…"

He winced at the possibilities of what Angel was talking about in his sleep… some were sorta bad… the others were just plain nasty. So, finally, before letting it get any further, Roger placed his hand on Angel's good shoulder and thought about gently waking him up to find out what was going on inside that strange and slightly twisted mind of his, but before he could, Angel's muscles started to tense up and he started whimpering.

"Get off…" he mumbled, and initially Roger let go of his shoulder and stepped back, thinking he had awaken and was upset or whatever. "Stop…"

It took a second for him to realize that it wasn't him Angel was talking to, or about, and so he sat next to him on the bed and just listened… maybe this was something Collins should be hearing, too. Roger realized that Angel was reliving the night before… the night he was attacked…

"Angel," he softly, verbally, tried to wake him and grimaced at having to be the one to do this to him. "Angel? Wake up…"

But he got no response, and Angel continued to cry distress from his inner subconscious. "Stop… please… no… you don't get it! Fuck!"

Collins never told him that Angel talks in his sleep before, so maybe this was the first time… people who've been exposed to a major and/or personal trauma often enough experience sleep disruptions, including deprivation of sleep and restless nights.

"God no…" he sobbed a little louder, and Roger held his hand and looked around desperately for some help. This wasn't something any nurse or doctor could fix – maybe a shrink. And God knows how much they cost per the hour. So instead of doing anything, Roger decided to wait it out and hear what happened… if Angel wouldn't share his trauma, willingly, then maybe his unconscious would reveal the details and he wouldn't even know. "I love him… stop! Samuel! No!"

Roger's jaw dropped when he heard that name, and yes he knew who it was… he and Collins had been friends for a long time, and Samuel, for the better part of a year, had been a prominent part of their lives. And of course, what happened three months ago he had found out from Collins that it had been Samuel who took advantage of Collins' depressed condition. None of them… him, Mark, Maureen, or even Benny had never gotten along with him, and found him possessive and basically a total bitch. Samuel Michaels. He went out of his way to alienate Collins from his friends, and just alienate them by himself…

Luckily, Mark and Roger had talked to Collins and somehow got through to him, especially when confronted with the ultimatum – get rid of Sammy, or leave… and he had woken up to what the reality with his now former lover was.  
To hear Angel crying out Sam's name like he was scared to death; like he was begging for his life… it led to only one conclusion. He stood up.

"I'll fucking kill him."

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_: in the next chapter, Roger decides to give Angel the option of telling Collins the truth, and Samuel realizes that his attack on Angel exposed him to AIDS, and so now he's out for revenge. Roger confides in Mark, and they confront Samuel.**

**(Note: Some of what's happening in the next chapter was supposed to be done in this one, but I've decided to try cut back on the lengthy chapters)**


	8. Chapter 8

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 8**

**_SUMMARY:_ In this chapter – Roger talks to Angel and tries to convince him to tell Collins the truth. And how will Collins react? **

* * *

Angel's eyes could not hide the guilt of not initially reporting who had attacked him… and he could see that Roger was pissed off. He was actually surprised, because he didn't know too much about the history of Samuel with the group – only Collins. It must've been bad if he got such a negative reaction from the usually cool Roger Davis… the anger he expressed… wow. Now, it was just after 3:00 AM and Collins still hadn't returned. Roger told him that Collins had called about two hours earlier, when he was asleep, to tell him that he'd be a little while longer – that he needed a bit more time to himself, and so Roger offered to stay with Angel until he got back, earning the gratitude from his friend.

Angel had woken up with a nurse came in to change the IV bags and administer more medication, and he had awoken to see Roger's accusing, pissed off glare directed at him, and he knew that something had happened. Roger then spent the next half an hour not caring about what time it was, or that Angel was still in a fairly delicate condition – physically and with his psyche, too – and told him everything he found out from Angel's sleep talk. His ranting and ravings about what Samuel had done to Collins gave the younger man a clearer picture of what happened, and why he was attacked… Sam never got over losing Collins, and blamed Angel for not being able to get back with him. Roger gave him a clear and concise, detailed account of the shit Sam had been pulling behind his boyfriend's back, including drug dealing, gun running, and generally was the definition of pure evil to some people – Samuel didn't give a damn about anyone, including selling guns and drugs to kids… but the one think he did care about was Collins, and would do anything to protect and defend their relationship. Rumor has it that he even killed someone in defense of his sexuality and the lifestyle he lived, but of course, Collins was blind to it all. The thing was… Collins is a gay, black college professor who happens to have AIDS. Samuel, is a white, former high school teacher who just happens to be gay, he didn't know what it meant to have to really understand ones sexual identity to be able to really handle the ridicule and dirty, anti-homosexual looks that many gay people had to endure – he never handled that kind of pressure before, and so he snapped on more than one occasion. For Collins, it was more than a lifestyle to be gay and have AIDS, it was his life… for Samuel, it was more like a habit. An addiction. Samuel convinced himself he was in love with Collins so that he thought he could be loved by at least one person in this world…

When Roger finished explaining the history of this Samuel Michaels, whom Angel only recognized as being a distant, ex-lover of his boyfriend, who had lured him into the club to have sex, it left Angel with a bitter sense of reality. He guessed Collins never told him all of this for his own reasons, and he wasn't angry about that. Never did he imagine the potential ramifications of keeping quiet about this, and he knew immediately that Collins would have to know – there was no way he could keep this secret. Roger regretted having to lay this all on him in his condition, but things had gone beyond him now… Samuel had tried to kill Angel not because he wanted him out of the picture, or that Sam wanted back in to Collins' life, but because he wanted him to suffer.

"You gotta tell him, Ang." Roger leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "You can't keep this from him."

"I—" he stammered. "I can't… we both know what that'd do to him!"

"Fucking hell, Angel!" he hissed. "Samuel's a psycho! He's nuts! He really doesn't give a damn about anyone… I'm not sure he has the balls to go through with killing someone, but he damn near did with you!"

"And what happens when he finds out?"

"And what happens when he finds out you have AIDS? Samuel's not stupid… he does know people… he will find out and he'll know it's from you."

Angel started to shiver and suddenly, for some reason, began to feel cold… this wasn't fair. If he told Collins, things would be bad. If he didn't, things would be just as bad and could possibly grow worse. There was no avoiding the truth anymore, which was really the reason they were in this situation to begin with. Roger paced back and forth in front of the bed, trying to think of what to do – well he knew what he'd like to do to that Samuel, but from a more constructive point of view, he was wondering if he should tell Mark. He and Mark had been the ones to open Collins' eyes to who Sam really was in the beginning and so it would be unfair to suggest that it was none of their business, and now that these new revelations have come to light… it was only a matter of time before this shit hit the fan. Things were gonna get ugly.

Angel was shaking, scared and not wanting to be left alone – some part of him was relieved that someone else now knew the truth. His eyes were wide and very jumpy; his skin was cold to touch and he was shivering very badly, so Roger sat beside him and tried his best to comfort him.

"What did he say?" he asked gently.

Angel started sobbing hysterically and buried his face in his hands… he barely could remember the exact words Samuel had told him, but he knew what the general basis of it was. And it terrified him. Roger could see in his eyes… so dark and frightened, becoming bloodshot and puffy from crying so much and being so terrified, with the feeling that there were worse things to come. Roger was right, Samuel didn't know about him having AIDS, and now the probability that he, too, had it, was something that horrified him… but then again, he wouldn't necessarily know for a while – AIDS rarely exhibited symptoms until the condition was much further down the road.

Gently, Roger gave his ailing friend a hug. "I'm sorry, Ang. I'm here…"

"Where the fuck is Collins?" Angel cried like a lost, little child. "I need him…"

"He'll be here soon, he told me…" Roger assured him, patting his back. "Ang, I gotta know what happened—"

"And you think I don't!" Angel told him, angrily. "I can't remember what he said, Roger! I can't! All I remember is being thrown against the wall! All I remember is having my skirt pulled down! All I remember is that evil motherfucker threatening to kill me if I said anything!"

He cried in Roger's arms and his chest began to hurt as his lungs quickly contracted and relaxed against his broken and bruised ribs – but the pain was subsidiary to the fear in him. Angel's eyes were panicky and wild – the life was hidden once more.

"For the first time in my life, I just hated it! I hated life! I wanted death, I was welcoming it… it would've been a blessing, and—" he stopped and Roger gestured for him to continue.

"And, what?"

Angel gave him a defeated, and just plain sad look. "I still do…"

**MEANWHILE, WITH COLLINS**

Collins stepped out of the elevator on the ICU floor and started walking towards Angel's room – he had intended to come back earlier, but after what happened with Samuel, he needed space to clear his thoughts. He would always blame himself for doing what he did to Angel, but he would never forgive Samuel – he couldn't stand to breathe the same air as him. All Sammy was, to him, was junkie pimp who likes to pretend he's the big man of the streets, when he's really not… Collins couldn't believe what he ever saw in the bastard anyway, and was just now looking forward to putting it all behind him and getting on to sort things out with his Angel… and the first order of business for him was to go into Angel's room, and just stay there… the moment he his Angel wakes up, he'd kiss him and tell him how much he loves him – and then he would tell him the truth about Samuel, not knowing that Angel was already well acquainted with him. Needless to say, Collins would be in for the shock of his life, too.

He turned into the corridor which led directly to Angel's room. He wasn't happy, nor in distress… but he was just focused on making things right and making sure that things would be right between him and the rest of the group, for good. Collins was actually proud of himself for not giving Samuel a beat down, and felt stronger because of it… but now, Angel was the only thing that occupied every corner of his mind.

The lights in the corridor were dim and the very sterile environment left nothing to the imagination, and it stood to reason why many of the group really did not feel comfortable in or around hospitals… they were somewhat untrustworthy to them.

Collins approached Angel's room and opened the door slowly, peering inside and saw Roger sitting on the bed comforting a distraught and slightly hysterical Angel. He rushed into the room and over to Angel's bedside.

"Angel!" he asked, sitting on the other side of his bed, and both Roger and Angel looked up, as if noticing that he had returned for the first time. Understandably confused, Collins couldn't understand what had actually happened in the time he was away, but knew that Angel was having bouts of anxiety and even panic attacks.

"Collins!" the young loved cried and held out his good arm to indicate that he wanted to feel the embrace from him, and Roger took the hint and helped him sit back up properly in the bed. Collins sat closer to him and gently let Angel move into his arms, without trying to hurt him.

"Collins…" Angel cried, and his tears were already starting to soak Collins' shirt… the truth was hurting worse than the physical pain… the truth could not be hidden by a nice shot of morphine or Demerol, so there was no hiding it from his boyfriend now.

"Wh… what happened?" Collins asked, more so to Roger than the crying Angel. Roger simply shrugged, sadly, and kept his mouth shut… this was something Collins needed to hear from Angel, but he wasn't going to leave them alone – not for fear of Angel's safety or that Collins would go nuts, but because they were both gonna need someone. Samuel had a negative impact on the lives of not just Collins, but his friends, too. So Roger, Mark, Benny, and Maureen would all be involved in what happened in one way or another. Seeing that he wasn't going to get a response from Roger, Collins looked at Angel who was still crying and he kissed his forehead lovingly.

"Baby? What happened? What's going on?"

Roger stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, and stood their uncomfortably and then started walking towards the door.

"Roger!"

He turned around.

"Roger, what happened?" Collins' eyes darkened, hoping that Roger didn't do anything to set Angel off again (which, let's face it, he did).

"Roger!" It was too late for any of them to start playing games, and again, Roger just shook his head, sadly.

"Sorry, man," he replied with a small shrug. "I can't… I can't say it… you gotta here it from Angel…" Then, not waiting for a reply, he turned and quickly left the room and hoped that he was doing the right thing.

Inside the room, Collins continued to hold his crying Angel, and out of all the times Angel had lost control, it was never as bad as this – it was at the point where Collins was fearing he'd hurt himself, or exacerbate his injuries further. So, he moved to the side a bit and helped Angel lay back against the pillows, just so he could be a little more comfortable and then he leaned over him, stroking the side of his face.

"Angel, baby? What happened? Come on, it's okay… tell me…" he was getting more desperate and pleading, which could be heard in his voice – he just wanted to alleviate Angel's pain in anyway that he could. "Angel! Come on, please!"

Angel sobbed and he gripped at Collins shirt, weakly pulling at him to come closer, in which he gladly obliged.

"Baby, talk to me!" Collins felt his heart breaking at the sight of Angel's pain… it was obvious that he was so traumatized from what happened to him, and it was just starting to break through Angel's beautiful personality now. "Please!"

"I'm sorry!" Angel cried. "I'm so sorry, Tom…"

"Sorry? For what? Angel it wasn't your fault—"

"It is…" he sobbed and gripped Collins' arm like a vice to make sure he wouldn't move away… but Collins had no intention of doing that anyway. The most confusing part of this for Collins was that there seemed to be something hidden, something possibly dangerous that Angel was keeping secret – and they both knew that it was more dangerous not to say what was happening, and yet he still resisted in telling the truth. "I… I… was just scared! He said he'd kill me if I said anything, and I didn't want you to stress, and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Collins interrupted and put his finger over Angel's lips to silence him, and partially laid down on the bed next to Angel, and made sure he wasn't restricting any of the machines that Angel's life was currently hooked up to. It was the lack of honesty from him in the first place that had led to all these events taking place; and him foolishly thinking that things between him and Angel could go back to normal… when it was clear that he just made things worse, no thanks to Julia trying to boost his ego and convince him that Angel's life wouldn't be any better without him in it.

Angel blinked quickly to get the tears out of his eyes so he could see his lover better, and the concern on Collins' face only brought up more fresh tears. Why couldn't it have been easier just to let him go; why couldn't he stop loving him? Maybe God was punishing him… punishing him with love – the inability to eradicate the scent, the taste, the intensity of Collins' love from his own body and mind… even if Samuel hadn't beaten the living hell out of him, for that reason alone Angel felt like he was dying.

Collins kissed him and it set shivers down his spine – another reason why he couldn't hate him and get him out of his system – Collins kisses were like no other man's Angel had ever experienced before. The warmth. The love. The tenderness. Every aspect of Collins' beautiful personality was codified into each sweet, loving kiss that took his breath away… each time his soft lips touched his skin, Angel just felt that much more special. So in a way, it was a blessing and a curse. It was just not easy to not love him, think about him, and not have the desire to be with him… physically and spiritually… Angel had never been dependent on a man like he was with Collins – not to the point where he lost all self control and self respect, where he didn't know who he was anymore – but there was nothing he thought could be done to tear him away from Collins' side… and then Samuel came along and fucked everything up, not to mention Collins' ego. But still – even knowing who Sam was and what he had done in the past, and what had happened between Angel and his gorgeous anarchist boyfriend… it wasn't enough to kill the love and desire. Nope. Nothing.

Collins wouldn't move for the world… although one could say that he'd move the world for Angel, give him the world… but nothing could be said or done to make him leave that bed, and they were both grateful for it. Each moment that passed when Angel held him close, he felt as if each of those moments was one in which he was being forgiven… and for Angel, each moment Collins sat there with him, was a moment when he felt he could trust him again.

"Angel…" Collins rubbed his arm. "Baby, there's something up… something you remember from last night?"

Angel hesitated and wiped his eyes on the professor's shirt and then nodded and was finally able to look up at him.

"I know who did it."

"What!"

Angel nodded again and rested his hand Collins' chest. "I was so scared, that's why I didn't say anything, I know you'll be mad, and—"

"Angel, I'm beyond mad… I'll kill the son of a bitch myself," Collins insisted, his voice tainted with darkness.

"I—"

"Baby, no! No… that's why," he sobbed. "That's why I didn't say it before… every time I thought of him I thought I was gonna die all over again! I couldn't bear it if I lost you again… by you doing something stupid…" he paused and frowned. "Again."

He licked his lips and felt his mouth dry up, and so he started to reach over for the cup of water, but stopped when a surge of pain ripped through his shoulder and chest.

"Hey," Collins soothed and helped him lie down. "Don't move… don't move… here," he took the water and held out the straw for Angel, who gladly took it in his mouth and let the cool water into his body. Collis could see momentarily relief brighten up Angel's face even just for a split second… it made him look so much more beautiful.

"Better?"

Still drinking the water, Angel slowly nodded his head and then released the straw so he could breathe again, considering that his nose was taped up in bandages and plaster from having his head smashed against a wall, and against Samuel's fist.

"I'm okay," he whispered and leaned his head on the pillow and then turned it so he was directly looking at Collins. "I'm okay." He was also slightly calmer, though the prospect of having to tell him that it was his ex, psychopathic lover who had tried to kill him… he could only imagine what he would do.

"Angel, I need you to tell me who did this to you…" Collins reasoned. "You can't carry this by yourself. I need you to trust me…"

It was the first time the 'trust' word had been exchanged between since their reunion, and suddenly they found that silence had come between them, and Angel tensed up. This was the moment when he really had to decide if what happened between them, he could put behind and move on… as much as he loved him, this was the biggest test he had to face to date, and whatever decision he made – whatever he told him now, would inevitably determine how things would turn out. He sat up straight and reached up and gently touched Collins' cheek and wiped away a tear...

"I…" he began, his voice quivering. "I trust you, Tom."

It was a huge weight lifted off both of them, and in response, Collins leaned down and kissed him on the lips, just the way he used to. Butterflies were flying in Angel's stomach and he started to blush… he pulled away and let snaked his arm around Collins' neck and smiled.

"And I love you."

"I love you too, baby. I never stopped."

"Me either."

"That's why I need to know… I won't let you carry this by yourself…"

"I just… I don't want you to do anything stupid." Angel lowered his eyes, but Collins placed his finger under his chin and lifted his head so he could still see into them.

"Tell me."

Angel tried to drag it out as long as possible so that maybe Tom would see how much he felt he couldn't say it, even though he wanted to.

"Collins—"

"Now!"

Angel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "It was… Samuel." He opened his left eye only a little, to get a glimpse of his lover's reaction, which he expected to be intense. He then opened them fully and Collins just sat there. He blinked once. Twice. Three times. No fireworks yet, but perhaps it was a delayed reaction as he had to absorb the information. A minute passed. Two minutes. Two and a half. Angel got up the courage to open his mouth.

"Collins… _Tom_?"

But surprisingly, the older man remained calm, and from what Angel could tell, not at all tense. His muscles were relaxed; his eyes were not enraged… and perhaps that was even more terrifying, and so finally he moved, and not in a way Angel inspected. Collins intertwined his fingers with Angel's and just sat there looking at him, inspecting every physical and emotional part that made up the beautiful young man that lay before him, recovering from what surely was the most terrifying experience of his life.

"Collins?" Angel pressed further. This was strange. "Samuel Michaels attacked me… Roger told me all about him…"

Even as Angel told him that Roger knew about this before he did, Collins didn't scream… he didn't shout… he didn't threaten violence… there were even no tears in his eyes. Of course, he wanted to kill Samuel and tear his fucking head off… oh believe me, he was thinking up things he'd like to do to his ex. As strange has his reaction, or rather lack of it, was he just couldn't bring himself to let loose, not in front of Angel. And he knew that his calm demeanor was sure to frighten him further, but that was Collins' concern right now… he was simply wrapped up in the beauty of Angel, and his fighting spirit, his will to live. They say love conquers all? Well that statement, even though it's so cliché, never rang so true in his heart, and any visceral hatred he was feeling and wanting to vent out for the world to hear… none of it was worth it when compared to being given the option, the chance of just being with Angel in this capacity once more.

"I heard you the first time, baby," Collins finally spoke and squeezed his hand. "Thanks for telling me."

"You—" Angel stuttered. "You're not—"

"I'm furious. I wanna kill him. I'm gonna kill him," Collins chuckled bitterly, lowering his eyes to his hands. He was speaking in an eerily calm tone. "I'll rip his heart out with my teeth if I could… I, uh… I saw him today."

"What? Where?"

"Angel, it doesn't matter—"

"It matters to me!" Angel insisted, pleadingly. "Please!"

Collins sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "Outside. When I went out to get air, he came up to me… son of a bitch told me he was visiting a friend here… if only I knew…" guilt was something that never left him, but now he felt guilty for an entirely different reason.

"How could I have not seen it?" he wondered aloud and looked at Angel with tears in his eyes. "How could I've been so fucking blind not to know what he was talking about? To put it together…?"

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. I wanted to kill him there and then. But I couldn't, I just… walked away…"

Angel managed to pull him self to sit up straight, while carefully minding his broke ribs. The knife wounds he had sustained had not penetrated any vital organs, or in fact gone very deep so he was rarely troubled by it – topped off with all the medication he was on. He then leaned his head on Collins shoulder, with his arm still around his neck, allowing his boyfriend to put his arms around his slim waist and kiss his neck.

"I'm proud of you, baby," Angel whispered in his ear. He doubt he would've had the courage to just walk away from someone as evil as Samuel.

"Ang," it was not Collins' turn to be comforted. "I… can't forgive myself for what I did to you… if it weren't for me… you wouldn't have to live with this! Live with my mistakes! You don't deserve this because of me…"

"Stop," Angel told him. "Don't start. Don't start that, honey. Because if you cry, I'll cry again, and to be honest, I'm looking like hell as it is. Show me a mirror and it'll crack with my reflection. See? As if I don't have enough of this emotional shit to deal with!" His small attempt to make him smile was lost, and didn't work, because it was all coming out now.

"I love you, Collins. I forgive you. I trust you."

"I will find him and kill him," the anger started to emerge in the form of tears and guilt. Samuel Michaels would pay with his life, should Collins, Roger, Mark, or any of them actually find him anytime soon. "I'll kill him, Ang… I will…"

Angel sat against his pillows and allowed Collins to rest his head on his chest, lightly, of course. Broken ribs take a long time to heal, and his chest was still very delicate despite the heavy bandages. He couldn't believe that Samuel actually had the nerve to come to the hospital to play psyche games with the man he claims he loves more than anything in the world. It was sick. Even for Angel's standards. The fact that Samuel had got in his face that day, and he hadn't been able to piece the very obvious clues together was what Collins felt most guilty about and it wasn't like he could just go out and fix these problems… it wasn't fair! "We'll get through it, I promise."

**_

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know I was supposed to put in Mark and Roger's part in this bit, but the Angel/Collins scenes carried out longer than I expected. In the next chapter, it'll be focused entirely on Roger with Mark and the girls and Benny, as well as Samuel finding out from someone other than the group that he's been exposed to AIDS by the drag queen he's been bragging about putting in the hospital. I've decided not to bring Julia back, for sakes of continuity and the fact I've decided not to make her a primary character._**

**Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 9**

**_SUMMARY:_ Samuel finds out that he has been exposed to AIDS from one of his associates… Roger and Mark talk… Maureen and Mimi come into some extra money from Mimi's tips from the club, so they decide to go shopping for Angel. **

* * *

Samuel sulked around just outside the back door to a club he and his 'friends' often frequented during the week – it was a club where drugs were a way of life, and guns were the only measure of security people really had, so it was not the safest place in the world. And of course, Samuel was trying to work his way up to weasel in to becoming 'friends' with those who already dominated the scene there. Not to say he didn't already have a strong hold, but it wasn't like he was a major drug lord or the leader of a large organized crime association or whatever. He had his own smaller group of thugs that really relied on muscles rather than brains; intimidating rather than extortion and exploitation, and of course, they fell deep into selling drugs and guns – not an uncommon practice in this part of New York City, unfortunately. It was 8:30 in the morning… a weird time for a gun deal, but that's the time the potential buyer had stipulated, which he claimed was non-negotiable.

He paced back and forth, rubbing his hands together in front of him nervously waiting for one of his associates, Randy, to get back from making a gun deal with a potential buyer. This time, the payment wasn't going to be money itself, but something of equal monetary value – drugs. Randy was one of the most experienced drug dealers in their gang, and they had been promised pure, uncut cocaine, so he was the one who was 'volunteered' to go make sure this stuff was legit. Samuel checked his watch and realized that Randy had been gone for almost three hours, which was nothing unusual… but if another hour passed without word of the deal then it would be safe to assume that trouble had come to pass.

"Sam, chill!" another one of his gang members, Julian, spoke up from where he was sitting, on a box against the wall, smoking a cigarette. "You know Randy, he's got it covered!"

"Yeah, and I also know he'll screw us over in a second if Jordan starts making nice with him," Sam spat back, referring to David Jordan, the man who Randy was currently with, making the deal go down. Samuel had met him only once through a contact not too far away, who had recently been knee-capped by Jordan for skipping out on a couple of grams of heroin he had paid out for.

He grimaced at the prospect of Jordan or Randy feeling ripped off… the last thing he wanted was for a gang war to start up, and he would be caught right in the middle of it. Literally. Both of those men were very territorial, and dealings between them were tenuous at best, so naturally it was uncharted territory for Sam who really had no idea just whom he was dealing with, and how far deep he was getting himself into this mess. But hey, he wanted to get into the big leagues… so he would also have to learn how to handle the big consequences of his actions.

Samuel was also distracted by what happened with Angel, and although he was disturbingly happy that Angel was suffering… he still wanted him dead. And he still wanted Collins more than anything, and just had to hold out hope that Angel, for his sake, kept his mouth shut… and there was definitely envy and jealously on Sam's part. When Collins had him shoved up against the wall, he was slightly turned on… but he had also seen past the anger and torment in his ex's eyes – he saw fear, regret, and anguish… love. Pure, unadulterated love. That was tearing Samuel up more than anything, and he had realized that there was no way he would ever have Collins in his arms again… and it sucked. It hurt. And now, he just wanted to kill Angel for real this time, but knew it would be really, uh, stupid to do so now… he had a history with Collins' and those friends of his. It would only be a matter of time before he was singled out as the one who attacked Angel… but he would deal with that at a later time. After, neither Collins nor his friends were exactly lethally dangerous – Randy and Jordan were. But he still couldn't get the thoughts of what he had done wrong, and the look of sheer anger in Collins' eyes, out of his mind – and he had to be careful before these distractions began to cloud his thoughts.

"You alright, man?" Julian queried, curious as to why his friend of nearly twenty years, was so unusually quiet and demure. Julian was a classic good kid turned bad – rich, good looks (blonde hair, blue eyes, great physique – can't go wrong!), and then of course, the bad influences kicked in (I.E. Samuel Michaels)… and these two friends were so loyal they'd fight to the deal side by side.

"Hmm?" Sam looked up, already feeling the affects of the X he had taken only minutes before. He needed the boost to keep him up during what may turn out to be a very volatile situation.

"What?"

"I said, 'are you alright'?" Julian repeated and stood up, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it, effectively putting it out. He then turned to his friend with a serious expression on his face. "Besides the X, you look like crap. What's goin' on with you, Sam?"

"Nothin'," he lied and felt his chest tighten. He craved the warmth of Collins' body; the strength of his arms around him… right now he really didn't give a damn about anything else. "It's cool."

"Don't you dare start getting cold feet—"

"I'm not!" Sam insisted, barely able to convince himself let alone Julian who knew him so well that he could see right through the façade. "I'm okay, dude, really!"

"Like fucking hell you are!" Julian growled, in a challenging tone. The two of them were usually always on the same page, and never really fought about anything – except when it came to anything that could jeopardize a drug deal or whatever. This one, in particular, had potentially huge ramifications should something go wrong, and it would be both their heads on the chopping blocks. But Julian wasn't in the mood to start a fight, and Samuel was in the midst of getting high… "Look, forget it. Just keep your cool, and whatever it is that's got you wrapped – forget about it."

"I can't," Sam muttered and leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Julian frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing…"

"No, tell me. If this is gonnascrew everything up, tell me now so I can at least be _prepared_ to have the shit beaten out of me!"

Samuel glared at him, but didn't move… this thought processes were starting to be distorted, and the drug began to take a hold of him through his blood.

"Go to hell!"

"What the he--? You son of a bi—"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"Screw you!" Julian stormed up to him so they were standing face-to-face. The last thing either of them needed was for internal fighting between two of the small gang's leaders (there were only about fifteen or twenty members), and so another person stepped in to cool things down, and both men backed off. Sam grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him away further down the back road, away from the main group and Julian pulled his arm away.

"What the hell is up wit you, man?" he asked, sounding kind of hurt now. Recently, Sam had begun acting all weird and fucked up, more so than usual – and it wasn't the drugs, either. Samuel was getting depressed… he had been bragging about his violent accomplishment to a few of the other friends, who openly laughed along with him when he described in horrifically graphic detail of what he had done. But there wasn't that much satisfaction he could really derive from it, since he didn't actually finish the job, nor did he have Collins with him. But with Julian, he couldn't say it… he couldn't brag about it… because then his friend would know he was still obsessing over the college professor, and Julian never really liked him anyway. It was no secret that Sam was gay, or at least believed he was gay, but no one was surprisingly shocked or bothered by it… not if they wanted to live, anyway. But no one outside their gang knew, and that's how Samuel instructed it to stay, and no one dared to cross him… and Julian had no idea who he attacked; he knew someone had crossed paths with Sam, and had lost. But he had no idea who… yet.

Julian never really liked Collins for the sheer fact that he was a teacher, and he was too good of a person… he wasn't prepared to let his best friend fall for a guy who wouldn't be there for him, and who would probably denounce the actions of Sam and him. It wasn't like Collins was immune to the drugs, or was particularly bothered by those who used them… he just really wasn't into hurting people or getting into a position where he would see people hurting others. Collins is the kind of guy who is good, warm, and loyal… and it pissed Julian off to no end. But Sam's silence and reluctance to tell him gave Julian all the information he needed on what was going on… his eyes widened.

"Shit!" he shouted in frustration. "What is your obsession with this Collins guy? He's a fucking wimp!"

"He is not!" Sam protested. "He's the only guy who cared about me, and to see him run off with that drag queen whore!"

"What whore?"

"You don't know him…"

"Sammy," Julian patted his friend on the back. "You'd be surprised who I know. Tell me who it is… I'll finish the bastard off for ya."

Sam tapped the wall with his fingers and immersed himself in his thoughts, briefly. The idea of sending Julian to finish off his dirty work was very appealing, but he couldn't do that to a friend – yes, even he had a conscious, well… sort of. His loyalties were fiercely tired to him, the one person who hadn't turned his back on him. Sam had the temptation to go after Roger Davis and Mark Cohen as well, who were the ones who had actually convinced Collins that he was bad news, and that Sam had to go… and Collins believed them, understandably, because they're his best friends. But Samuel couldn't deny the hurt and anger he felt from the betrayal. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled briefly as a cool breeze swept over his face.

"Forget it, Julian," he finally replied. "It don't matter. He's in the hospital, he knows I did it…"

"All the more reason to go and finish him before he talks."

"I said forget it! Dude, he's probably already told Collins and the rest…"

"Not if he knows what's good for him – and them."

"You shoulda seen it, man," Samuel confided, sadly. "Collins… he don't love me no more. His whole world revolves around Angel now… I'm so fucking outmatched."

Julian looked at him, from staring out across the street. "Who?"

"Angel. That fucking whore. He left me for that bitch…"

"Angel who?"

"How thehell should I know?" Samuel snapped, not really thinking about it. "Oh wait…" it dawned on him. "Schunard. Angel Schunard. Or something like that, I dunno…"

Julian frowned again, thinking deeply. He'd heard that name before, in the East Village… Angel was fairly well known to the locals around there, and Julian was no exception…

"Angel Schunard?" he whispered to himself, and then it came flooding back. He remembered meeting someone by that name about two years earlier… in a club… there were a lot of drag queens there, and a lot of people dealing drugs, having sex… he and Angel actually got along quite along, but mainly heard about him through other associates who had been with the street drumming drag queen on a purely physical level.

"Oh shit..." He looked up at his friend, alarmed. "Did you… you didn't, did you?"

"What?"

"Fuck him."

"He had it coming…"

It's not like Angel was famous or anything, but being the person he was, he had run into many people during his life. And in the East Village, news spread like wildfire…

"Shit! Samuel, do you have _any_ idea what you've done?"

Samuel pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, unconcerned. "Why should I be? He had it coming… you should've seen him! Poor baby was crying out for Collins… what a weakling."

"Sam, you fucking moron!" Julian yelled at him. "Angel has AIDS!"

Samuel froze. "What did you just say?"

**MEANWHILE, WITH ROGER AND MARK – THE LOFT – 9:06 AM**

"Samuel Michaels?" Mark was shocked. "Collins' old boyfriend?"

"If you could've even called him that," Roger affirmed, slumping down on the sofa and picked up some sheet music he had laying at his feet. Mimi and Maureen had left earlier that morning, with Mimi shouting something about going out to make Angel feel better, so Roger and Mark assumed they were going to the hospital or whatever. Joanne was at work, again, doing some more paperwork that had 'mysteriously' turned up on her desk, thanks to one of her associates at legal aid. Benny had yet to see them again since leaving the hospital, and so they assumed that he was back to his pompous ways and enjoying life in the elite.

"Wow…" Mark muttered and sat on the sofa, too. "Does Collins know?"

"He came back just as I was leaving. I left them alone, so I assume Angel told him."

"Think that was a good idea?"

"What?"

"Leaving those two alone together?"

"Why? Think Collins will do something some thing stupid?"

"No," Mark responded, knowingly. "I mean, they probably jumped each other the second you closed the door behind you!"

"Mark," Roger rolled his eyes in disgust. The thought of those two going at it was disturbing enough, and he already heard more than enough from Angel.

"Dude, I… come on, that's just wrong. Besides, Angel's hurt. Even they wouldn't… you know… while he's still on life support."

"Never stopped them before," Mark muttered with sardonic amusement under his breath. Angel and Collins always kept their relationship private, but there was no secret to how, um… well… things were going for them in the bedroom – neither of them could really hide the afterglow of a good night of sex, especially Angel. "And yeah," he spoke up loud enough for Roger to hear. "I do think Collins' is gonna do something stupid…"

"Stupid enough to hurt someone?"

"No. Stupid enough to get him self hurt. Or Angel." Mark replied. "Samuel's dangerous."

"No kidding."

Don't doubt Mark's concerns, because he was really worried… but the thing was, with Angel being conflicted by AIDS, he couldn't help but ponder what this meant for Samuel. _Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole,_ he thought. Both Roger and Mark, for once, were not without their respective guitar and camera… they were both too preoccupied… Collins was never so reckless as to choose someone dangerous to go out with, so why he was willing to risk everything by sleeping with him again, was beyond all conscious, logical reasoning. Mark turned to Roger.

"So what now?"

"I dunno, man… what can we do? Samuel's a goddamn drug dealer!"

"And our friends could be in danger!"

"I know!" Roger retorted, frustrated. "Mark, I know… it's not exactly something that you forget."

Mark stood up and walked over to the table, where his camera lay, and gently traced his finger over the lens cap, thinking of any sort of plan they could execute to not extract revenge on Sam, let's face it – that's not the type of people they are, and it's not like they could actually walk away from it unscathed… but then again, Angel was raped. He was brutalized. The trauma that the young man was going through was unconscionable, and they couldn't just let that go, either… for as long as Samuel was still free, he was able to terrorize them all, and everyone else who happened to wander into his territory.

Mark was the first one to catch on to the danger that was Samuel Michaels, and he confronted Collins about it, who laughed him off and said that Sam was actually harmless. Boy, did that comment ever come back to bite him in the ass now, and he was paying for it. And Angel was paying for it.

Neither of them doubted that Collins was putting himself through hell, and neither of them could honestly say he didn't deserve it. Collins was willing to sacrifice everything, including his lover's emotional and physical wellbeing, for a few nights of pleasuring himself with an ex boyfriend.

"We gotta do something…" he commented.

"Like what? Confront the son of a bitch?"

"Are you insane?"

"_Yeah!_"

"I mean… he'd probably kill us before we got in fifty feet of him," Mark continued, thoughtfully. Despite all that had changed over the past few months, his passion remained filming… maybe finally he could put his skills to good use. Maybe.

"Your point being?"

"I don't suppose Angel would be willing to call the cops, would he?"

"They've already been and gone, Mark," Roger explained. "They seriously did not give a shit about what happened to him. They gotta take care of the tax payers first."

"How's he doing… emotionally, and all that shit?"

Roger shrugged. "I guess… well, he was bitching about the fashion on T.V…. and then his sex life… then Mimi's… and then mine. I think he'll live. _Emotionally_, of course. Whatever…"

"And then?"

"And then he just sorta broke down again. What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe, um _comfort_ him?" Mark responded, half-heartedly.

"I did! And then Collins came back, so I left!"

"So that's it?"

"Pretty much."

Mark and Roger continued to banter back and forth, spinning ideas of what to do – truth me told, Samuel was all talk and would hardly kill a person himself. His hesitation to kill Angel only proved this theory further, however, one of his associates or gang members probably wouldn't be so reluctant, and from what they heard, Samuel was usually surrounded by his thugs anyway.

"Roger, we gotta do something."

"Like _what_, Mark? Tell me how and we'll do it! There's not much we can do! Angel's barely been awake for more than a day and we're already plotting how to get the asshole back who almost killed him?"

"Well we can't just sit here!"

Roger stood up and approached him. "Mark, you know who Sammy is as well as I do. Just chill for a few days; we'll figure out something…"

"And until then?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we just be there for Angel and let things happen…"

"I don't feel right about this, man…"

"You don't feel right about anything."

"That's not the point."

"Whatever."

"_Whatever_," Mark mocked and turned away from him. The loft was so empty with just the two of them there, despite the fact that they were the only ones who actually lived there. They were so used to everyone being here, just hanging out… and now, for everything to be so quite, it was kind of creepy, even for them. But, nevertheless, Roger was right. All they could really do was wait for Angel to get better and then see where things would take them from there… unless Samuel decided to make another unannounced reappearance.

"Mark?"

He didn't turn around – he hated for Roger to see how much all of this was paining him, because he was always the one who was the outsider, looking in, and making the observations on everyone else in his life. And now, he had been drawn in as much as everyone else… true, Mimi, Joanne, and even Angel didn't know of the drama that had taken place with Samuel several years ago, and it had been bad. And now, to see two of his best friends falling apart… it hurt him too. When Maureen left him, Mark learned nothing but to keep out of things and situations, and thus he wasn't affected as greatly (at least not as visibly) – and now, he couldn't distance himself and hide behind his work; hide behind the camera lens.

Roger stepped up next to him and studied him carefully…

"Mark, there's no shame in getting into it."

"No," Mark agreed, sadly shaking his head and looking at his feet. "But there is in not having done it sooner."

**WITH MIMI AND MAUREEN**

Wondering down the street and checking out the small boutiques and vendors, Mimi and Maureen were both cheerful and chirpy considering the circumstances. That's because Mimi had come to a 'brilliant' idea that would cheer Angel up for sure – SHOPPING! Given the two-hundred dollars she received in tips over the past few nights at the club, she wasn't blowing it all on drugs anymore, and Maureen implored her to join her in finding Angel some fabulous new outfits, wigs, make-up, or whatever they could find that would just scream of Angel's personality.

Maureen linked arms with her friend and began running down the street, effectively pulling Mimi along with her as they checked out everything they could see. Angel was a colorful, cheerful, lively, flamboyant drag queen who knew all there was to know about fashion and looking absolutely _fabulous_… was. Angel had changed dramatically over the past few months without Collins in his life, and now with the prospect of the two lovebirds hooking up again, maybe Angel could go back to normal as they wished he would.

"Wow…" Maureen muttered, browsing through a rack of colorful tops that she was sure Angel would absolutely drool over, and she picked up a bright red skirt that on other people would seem extremely tasteless. But Angel had the remarkable talent of making the tackiest, tasteless outfits into retail-worthy works of art that he sculpted against his own body. Maureen was envious at not having that same ability, but found the experience of shopping with Mimi all the more fun because they were now shopping with – _for_ – a purpose.

"I swear, Angel would faint over all this…"

"I think he'd lose himself in it," Mimi giggled and took off a pink, slightly old looking short-sleeved shirt and held it against her own body and struck a pose.

"How do I look?"

Maureen looked up and carefully eyed her up and down, before rolling her eyes. "Put that down before I go blind,"

"Maureen!" Mimi picked up one of the shoes that was displayed on the table and threw it at Maureen, who simply ducked and cracked up laughing.

"Hey!" the vendor operator protested as the two girls began to use any of the clothing and objects around them and started to chase after them. Clothes and shoes went flying around and the girls started messing around as they usually did – Mimi was just coming down off a major high she had when she last shot up with the drugs, and so the world still looked kind of distorted to her. Roger had tried to get her off it, and she was, but it was taking time… she had shot up again when she learnt about what happened to Angel. Being as close to him as she was, she needed something to kill the anguish she was feeling, and believe me, the drugs still did it for her. Still, she and Maureen continued to mess around for as long as they remained uncaught.

Both Mimi and Maureen were laughing hysterically and grabbed hands to support each other as they ran down the street, much to the screaming protests of the man, who was left standing in a pile of clothes, shoes, and objects – a huge mess they had left.

"Did you see that dude's face?" Maureen had to grab her sides, which were hurting from laughing so much. They rounded a corner of a building and fell against the wall when they were sure they were completely safe, and they couldn't run anymore. Mimi wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to Maureen…

"We…" she tried to catch her breath. "Shouldn't… be…" she cracked up into a fierce fit of giggles again, which distorted the sentence she was trying to get out. "laugh… ing…! An… gel… needs us!" Mimi began to cry from all the laughing, and both forgot why they were laughing in the first place. Where they going overboard? Probably. But it was their way of dealing with the recent tragedy. Angel Schunard is there best friend, and they would be damned if they let him go by without a load of beautiful, gorgeous outfits and accessories.

"We're gonna find him the most awesome, fabulous outfit that he's seen, and all the other drag queens will be jealous!" Maureen declared, triumphantly, sending Mimi almost falling over from laughing. It was more about how she said it – so grand, and so like she was about to go on a quest… Maureen was so comical and lived life as if the world was a stage. Her stage. She made the world take notice of her whether it wanted to or not, and so it made perfect sense as to why she and Angel were so close, and so her sense of fashion quite often enough mirrored that of her friend's.

"No!" Mimi laughed and lightly gripped at Maureen's black halter top. "Fuck that, we'll make sure the whole world falls in love with him!"

"Really?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mims, honey, you gotta get off that shit!"

"Why?"

"Because you make as much sense as… as… a cow!" she didn't know what she was saying, and cared even less as to if she was making sense or not. Maureen, being the performance artist that she is, never turned away any good or bad attention that she got, and Mimi was usually too strung out or too naive to really care either way. Both of them were extremely close with Angel, and so they were dealing with this tragedy the only way they knew how... shopping!

Mimi's eyes lit up. "Moooooooooo!" she teased, and both girls doubled over from their infectious, yet strange, sense of humor.

"MOOOOOOOOO!" Maureen joined in, just as she had done during the protest a year earlier.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Both girls were mooing and laughing, causing several passer Byers to eye them suspiciously as they walked by; one woman even crossed the road to escape the inane babbling and cackling from them.

They both continued down the road in front of them, where more boutiques and stalls were set up with clothing and accessories. It took their minds off the seriousness of the situation, which Maureen knew more of, but not as much as Roger, Mark, and Collins… and Mimi really didn't know too much about it at all, and so had to be filled in on the details

"Mims!" Maureen called, after spotting something on a stand. "Over here!"

Mimi skipped over to her after checking out a few of the shoe stands not too far away, and wrapped her arms around her waist and grinned.

"What?"

"Check this out!"

Mimi's eyes widened at the large collection of beautiful, second hand, shoes and bags that to an ordinary person bore no interest in, inspired much excitement in the two bohemians who salivated over them like two lions over a zebra.

"Mimi?"

"Maureen?"

"Got the cash?"

"Got the time?"

"Angel will love it!"

"She better for what it's gonna cost me!"

"Like you got better things to spend that on!"

Mimi opened her mouth to respond, but shut it again after she realized that she was about to say that she did, when usually she was spending her money on either drugs or something of that nature… whatever she usually spent her money on, whatever little bit of cash she got, she never kept for very long. Instead she just poked her tongue out at Maureen, who just returned the gesture. They were gonna make Angel feel better, if it was the last thing they ever did!

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_** **Okay, so Samuel has realized that he has been exposed to AIDS, and now he goes on a rampage, and he gets to the hospital with Julian, only to be met by Roger and Mark. Mimi and Maureen shower Angel with new clothes and the love that only true friends can bring.**


	10. Chapter 10

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 10**

**_SUMMARY:_ Samuel's worst fears are confirmed. Mimi and Maureen shower Angel with gifts and love. Collins and Angel share an intimate moment.**

* * *

Sam's heart pounded so hard in his chest that he felt it was gonna break his ribs – he started hyperventilating and combined with the ecstasy, he wasn't feeling too good, to say the least. He placed his hand out against the wall to keep him self from falling over, and clamped the other one over his mouth in a frivolous, pathetic attempt to not get sick, but it was too late. Leaning over one of the garbage cans, Sam threw up and started gagging – Julian rushed over to make sure he wasn't choking and patted his back, and knew what the likely prognosis would be from his childhood friend. And Angel was gonna pay for it. Granted, he knew that Sam would've forced Angel against his will to have sex, but still… the fact that Angel never disclosed his disease to Sam was enough reason for Julian to want to kill him. And yes, we all know that Angel did try… and that he was terrified of what was happening to him, so we can't blame him for not saying – but Julian sure as hell didn't care. His lifelong friend had now probably been infected with HIV, and for him that meant he was gonna die. For many people, the words HIV and/or AIDS were terrifying because the first thing they would think of is death… early death… and also the fact that it's so contagious and at the stage of becoming a pandemic… but it was terrifying. So people with it often get alienated, abused, misunderstood…

Of course, AIDS does not at all mean death – far from it. People with it can lead normal, long, productive lives under the right conditions and medical supervision, but it's not like they had the luxury of that in environment people like Samuel lived in.

With a shaking hand, he wiped his mouth after he was done, and he looked up at Julian, who was watching him with concern. Sam's eyes were bloodshot and watery, from the shock and horror of what he faced, and he leaned against the wall and Julian could hear his voice quivering with fear.

"Wh… wha…" Samuel stammered, confused. "… No! Fuck! No!" he then started to get angry and went into denial. "You're bullshitting me!"

"Oh yeah," Julian spat bitterly. "I have an awesome time telling my friend he's been exposed to AIDS by a flamboyant drag queen who stole his boyfriend! Sure, I get off on that!"

"I don't believe it," Samuel shook his head and stood up straight, with a renewed look of determination and stubbornness. "No… you're just messin' with me, man," he ran his fingers through his matted hair and started walking away, back towards the rest of the group. But Julian would have none of it, and he reached forward and grabbed Samuel harshly by his shoulders and pulled him backwards, almost sending them both crashing into the discarded debris that littered the back street.

"SHIT!" Sam yelped and grabbed a hold of a drain pipe to keep him self from falling over completely. After regaining his balance, he spun around and saw his friend struggling to get up from the floor, and he glared down at him with a look of betrayal and hurt.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!" he kicked Julian in his stomach causing the younger man to scream in pain and wrapped his arms around him self to prevent any further attacks, or at least to lessen the damage an enraged Samuel could inflict on him. His screams and Sam's hysterical yelling at him was enough to catch the attention of members of their group, who all came over and two of them, Jamey and Donovan, grabbed Sam by his arms and pulled him off, still kicking and screaming.

"You son of a bitch!" Sam screamed at Julian. "I don't have AIDS!"

"Sammy, calm down!" one of the other men said, and the two friends were dragged apart, with Julian staring at Sam, shocked at what had just gone down.

"Are you fucking crazy!" Julian launched himself at him, but was held back at the last minute. The fact was, Sam claimed that he loved Collins and had embraced his homosexuality, but still wouldn't admit to the risks involved in the behavior he engaged in with other men, including making sure they were clean of disease – again, especially because of their environment. He still wasn't willing to accept the consequences of his actions, and as mentioned before… it was more of an addiction to him… unlike Collins, he still didn't accept it as his life…

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I DON'T HAVE AIDS, you fucker!" Sam screamed hysterically at him and in his rage, pulled the gun out of its holster and nervously pointed it at Julian, and everyone fell silent. Still. Being jacked up on X and God only knows what else he had in his system, it made for a very volatile, hostile situation… and how it would end would be determined only by him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Julian held his hands out defensively. "Dude, calm down!"

"Come on, man…" Jamey also tried, but his tries fell on deaf ears. Sam's face was tear-stained and red, not wanting to accept the reality that was his exposure to the disease. "Chill!"

"You're lying," Sam growled at Julian, not noticing the others around him. "You wanna get rid of me! Well I—" Julian just stared at him, as did the others, as he was ranting and raving… the drugs mixed in with the hurt of rejection from Collins was becoming overwhelming, dangerous, and soon could be deadly. But then, from behind them…

"Wow, someone's paranoid," came a familiar and somewhat arrogant, deep voice. Everyone turned around and there was Randy, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest… an emotionless expression blocked any attempt for anyone to read what he was thinking. But the general feeling was… he wasn't impressed. Now, Samuel was the official leader of the gang, but Randy was really the muscle – he was the one who went on the deals, and was the main protection for them all. He could strike fear into the hearts of anyone he met, and those he couldn't just met him with total respect… so he did follow Sam's orders, to an extent. It was really an uneasy relationship; they both needed each other… Sam had the goods and the money, while Randy had the connections, the security, the muscle, and therefore the power to bring them all more street credibility. If anything, the relationship between him and Sam was tense… not hostile, but it was like on the edge of a knife – it could go either way.

"What you doin' here?" Sam spoke in a low tone, his eyes narrowing and growing darker, losing his focus on Julian and turning fully around to face the cocky Randy who pursed his lips and didn't break eye contact.

He finally stood up straight but still had his arms crossed over his chest and casually began strolling up to face the slightly shorter man who he could tell was so pumped up on his own shit that he really wasn't thinking straight. He didn't actually know about the issues with Collins; only that Sam had recently had been responsible for an attack on someone over near Avenue B… of course, if he _had_ known about Collins, he probably wouldn't be as docile and calm. He was a strict business man, and if anyone got in his way whose personal conflicts could negatively influence his business dealings… well, they really didn't have much hope of living to tell the tale.

"Whoa… calm down. Got finished with Mr. Jordan," he casually smirked and took out of his pocket two small pocket bags that where obviously filled with cash, as Sam could see the impressions of bills against the soft exterior of the bag. Needless to say, Randy was well worth the effort in securing his services, so to speak. It was then he lost all interest in shooting Julian, and placed the gun back into his holster, and stepped forward to meet Randy. Although slightly scared of him, Samuel wouldn't back down… after all, Randy was usually a lone worker, and Sam had his goons around. Even if Randy wanted to start shit, he wouldn't be able to get far at all – that was the only comfort the smaller man had and the only reason he had the guts to challenge him as he was doing.

"How much?"

"70"

"Is that all?" Donovan spoke up, but Sam quickly hushed him with a very dark glare.

"Not bad," Sam tried to remain as cool, calm, and collected as possible. "What happened to the other 30?"

"Oh I'll get it when the deals done. They want another five semi automatics before they set the deal by the parameters _you_ demanded, but uh…" he eyed the semi-controlled Samuel Michaels up and down before continuing. "Thirty is my cut."

"What!" Julian roared and stormed over to stand next to the man who was, seconds earlier, ready to blow his head off. "No way! We agreed twenty!"

"No," Randy replied, kind of patronizingly. "Twenty, we agreed, was a base cut. You got your deal now the rest is mine…"

"That's not what we talked about!" Julian insisted and suddenly felt the urge to take him apart, but Sam stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Fine," Sam quickly diffused the situation. "Thirty's fine." Without taking his eyes off the dangerous man in front of him, he addressed Julian. "It's cool, bro. Seventy's fine… we got we need."

"Who the fuck does this guy think he is?" Julian hissed in his ear. "We had a deal!"

"Deals change!" Sam insisted. "Look, its cool. Done deal."

Julian let out a frustrated yell and stormed off, with and gesturing for the rest to follow him, which they did, and left Randy and Sam alone to talk some more. After everyone else had disappeared around a corner, Randy sat down on a couple of cardboard boxes and looked at Sam, expectantly.

"So…?"

Uncomfortably, Sam turned away. "So what?"

"What was that whole performance back there? Never seen you so, how should I put this…? Aggressive."

"None of your damn business!" Sam surprised himself with his assertiveness when he didn't have any of his goons around to protect him, but he was too strung out to really give a damn at that moment.

"Hey, just concerned for a friend, is all!"

"_No_, you're concerned about your damn gun and drugs supply," Sam retorted and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. Randy wasn't the kind of guy to snap and go all psycho on someone who challenged him, no… he was way more subtle then that, and Sam was right. He didn't want to be cut off from his supply, as he mainly worked as a middle man…

Randy had his own stash of guns and drugs, but preferred to run between gangs as it paid him a hell of a lot of cash without losing his leverage on the 'market'. He laid back so he was staring up at the bright morning sky and pouted his lips, deep in thought. He was definitely a laid back kind of guy – dangerous at times, when he had to be – but he generally didn't like hurting or killing people… the drug/gun loving community of New York that handled their business transactions on the _illegal_ side of the tracks was becoming narrower and narrower as the mayor of the city launched a nation wide crack down on their playing field. So, Randy realized, it wasn't worth it to limit his potential customers even further…

He knew Sam was watching him, and enjoyed the fear he could instill in people, and that was probably more powerful than the actual violence, or his physical status.

"And so what if I am?" he finally replied. "I need to know why my main supplier was gonna blow his right hand man's head off. If this could affect business…"

"It won't! Personal issues, man. Got nothing to do with this!"

Randy's attention was peaked when he heard the words 'personal issues', which were two words he hated to hear more than anything when it came to business, and he knew Samuel was lying.

"Then it's my business," he sat up. "Your business is my business. Talk. It might actually help you…"

"Yeah," Sam scoffed and kicked the dirt with his shoe. "Look, forget it. Deal is done. I'll call you for the next deal, cool?"

"I heard you say something about AIDS…" Randy continued as if he hadn't heard him, and stood up from off the boxes. "You got it?"

"NO!" Sam protested, extremely angrily. "Fuck! How many times do I have to say it! I—"

"You fucked a guy with AIDS…"

"NO!" the emotion began to squeeze his soul (or what little bit of soul he had left in him), and tears clouded his vision. "No!" he began to crack under the pressure and finally he broke down, sobbing against the wall. "Shit!"

Randy didn't blink; he didn't move to comfort the man – after all, he was strictly a business associate, and any dealings he had were Sam were strictly on the business side. He had no care for what happened to him or who he slept with; or what had gone on to cause him to crack like this.

"Look," he said. "I don't give a crap what you do in your own time. I don't give a damn if you got the disease or whatever… but go sort this shit out, or our business is done. And when I eliminate a contract, I don't mean tearing up a piece of paper… sort your self out, man." Randy knew he was all talk, and that he wouldn't actually follow through on hurting Sam – not unless he was pushed to the limit. The psychological game he liked to play was a lot more effective, as was his way with words.

He turned and walked away, leaving Sam sobbing on the ground, alone. If it was anyone else, I'm sure it'd be a pitying, sympathetic site. Soon, Sam was left alone in a pool of his own grief and misery, with the thought of AIDS spreading through his veins, infecting every single one of his blood cells with a ravaging force that couldn't be stopped. Maybe this was karma coming back to bite him on the ass?

Looking around into the cool midday surroundings, he was all alone and no sound could be heard except for the cars in the distance; buses; people going about their daily lives, while his was falling apart. Sam knew the dangerous of the business he was in, but as cocky as he was, he thought he was immune to it – invincible as his notoriety and power in the community strengthened.

"Fuck…" he muttered and gritted his teeth. He could feel his heart wrenching in his chest and it was causing physical pain.

Then, suddenly a hand came into his field of view, and he looked up and blinked to see Julian standing over him, looking rather pissed. After hesitating a few moments, Sam finally accepted his offer and was helped to his feet.

"I'll forget about you trying to shoot me," he told him, and Sam nodded.

"Thanks, man—"

"IF, and _only_ if we go find out for sure what's up with you. Go get a test done or whatever it is they do – if it's positive, we track down this bitch and take care of what you should've done two nights ago."

"Julian, I—"

"This is non-fucking-negotiable, Sam. I saw Randy, he's looking rather pissed and I don't really want him to take his business elsewhere, you hear me? We're gonna find Angel and tear him – _her_ – apart."

Sam was too high and tired to really debate with him, so all he did was nod again and look around, trying to think of what to do next. "Man, I'm sorry…" he apologized, not wanting to look at his friend. "I fucked everything up with my personal shit…"

"Forget about it. Totally forgiven. Just don't let it happen again. Right?"

"Fine."

"Good. Let's get you to a doctor…"

**WITH COLLINS AND ANGEL – 12:45PM**

"How you feeling?" the same nurse, Emily, smiled and checked on Angel's stats as he was eating lunch and Collins as sitting at his side, watching the television. Angel smiled at her while sipping his water, in his usual charming way. Collins had not left his side since the night before, even after Angel told him what Sam had done – he just couldn't bring himself to leave his side again; it was a symbolic gesture as well as an emotional one. Truth be told, Angel was comforted by that fact, though he could see time and sleep deprivation was taking its toll on the MIT professor, especially since he had to head back to Massachusetts tomorrow for his classes. Collins told him that he would quit his job and move back to the city, in which Angel started to protest, but he had effectively silenced and couldn't convince the man otherwise to change his mind. Sure, they were on the way to getting back together, but there was so much more at stake now then just the state of their relationship… they still had to decide what to do with Samuel. The cops weren't gonna do anything, and Sam was bound to find out about the AIDS (if he hadn't already), and come after him again.

"Every hour the better," Angel grinned and nibbled at his sandwich. Contrary to popular belief, hospital food wasn't as bad as people made it out to be – at least, not to him. Collins rolled his eyes at his cheeriness and remained silent… coming between Angel and his food was like coming between him and his clothes or his favourite shoes. The nurse continued to make sure all the vital equipment was still working as it should before changing the IV bags and making sure the drip was continuing to deliver the appropriate fluids into Angel's system.

"Good, good," she replied and smiled back, patting his arm. When she saw that he was actually eating the hospital food, she made a 'grossed-out' face at him, and Collins bit his lip to stifle a laugh. "Oh my gosh… Angel! Honestly! You're in hospital to get better!"

He shrugged in return and took a greater bite out of the sandwich and grinned even more "Iphh gooph!"

"What!"

Angel swallowed the food in his attempts to prove his point. It wasn't that good, but he just wanted to play around with her a bit. The good thing was, the amount of morphine that was being pumped into his system had lessened today, although it would still be another week before he'd even be considered for discharge from the hospital.

"I _said_ 'It's good!'," he smirked.

"Ewww," Emily replied and grimaced. "That's just disgusting!"

"It's funny what'll taste good when you haven't had a good meal for a while…" Collins made a passing comment; his eyes not leaving the screen.

"_Thank _you, honey," Angel replied, and smiled triumphantly knowing that it was a 2-against-1. Collins paused… that was the first time Angel called him 'honey' like he used to. Of course, he's said it to him during the duration that he's been back in New York, but now… the tone of Angel's voice, the life that's back in it now that they're sort-of back together. That's not to detract from the seriousness of the situation to their understanding, or that Angel was okay and that he had gotten past the emotional stage of the recovery process, but… having Collins at his side made him feel like he could get through it. And Collins knew it – hearing Angel speak the way he used to was music to his ears, and just made him want him even more. But he still said nothing…

Emily stuck her tongue at them both and winked at Angel, letting him know that everything was cool and it was all in good fun.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she told him and started to leave, but he called her back.

"Where you going?" he asked, confused. The answer was blindingly obvious, though…

"Aww," Emily cooed. "I'm flattered to know you'll miss me, but my shift is over. I need to sleep too, ya know!"

Angel pouted and gave her the cutest, saddest face he could, but she remained undaunted. She and Angel had become friendly during the course of his recovery over the past two days, and she had made his fear of hospitals a lot lighter. During his tearful breakdowns or morphine-induced ramblings, Emily was very understanding for a nurse and was very reassuring of him. And best of all – she didn't judge him.

"Who said anything about missing you?" he teased.

"You're face, darling!" she replied. "Anyway, I'll see you later… take care of Ang for me, Collins?"

"I got it covered," he played along.

After she left, closing the door behind her, once again Angel and Collins were left alone to enjoy each other's company again, and the professor just watched him eating his lunch without a complaint from either one. To Collins, his beautiful Angel was more radiant than ever, beyond all the bandages and taping that secured his wounds… there was life there again – every time his lips curled into even a weak smile, it was there. In his eyes, which sparkled against the hospital light became mesmerizing and reminded Collins of why he fell in love with him in the first place.

Angel chewed his food carefully, aware of the stress from his broken ribs and the knife wound in his torso, studied what in fact he was eating… he lifted up the top piece of bread and inspected the pieces of ham and cheese that were cut evenly. Also on his tray was a small bowl of jelly, a glass of milk, and an apple cut into small bits… very health conscious, as it was a hospital. Like most drag queens, Angel was fully aware of his health and maintaining his weight, so this was a nice change from the fast food or the junk he usually had to eat, or whatever Roger and Mark brought back to the loft… which was usually junk. But with the virus, and Angel's energetic personality, his metabolic rate was very quick and so he never usually put on weight – in fact, now with the virus becoming more intense, Angel had lost a bit of weight. But he still loved to eat healthy, and did bitch when he didn't get his way when it came to food – everyone else generally found it funny, and didn't pay too much attention except to try satisfy him by bringing slightly healthier meals. It really depended on who had the money to buy the food, and what they were into. Nevertheless, for Angel, this hospital food was very good compared to the 'crap' he had to eat back at the loft on a daily basis. He then noticed Collins watching him, and he playfully blew a kiss at him.

"What?" he coyly asked.

"Nothin'," Collins shrugged and reached across, gently stroking behind Angel's ear. "Just can't believe how beautiful you are…"

Angel heart started to race and he was pretty sure he was starting to blush. "These bandages do _nothing _for me…" he complained, hoping Collins wouldn't notice him becoming flustered. "Honestly… and these gowns?" he shook his head in disgust.

"Aww you work it well, baby."

Angel loved having his ego boosted, especially at this time… and especially coming from the one person who meant most to him in the entire world. So what was his response?

"I know!" he winked and playfully licked his lips in an enticingly seductive way that always got Collins heat up. He then pushed his tray away, not wanting to eat anymore and to just focus all his energies on his lover… Angel's mind didn't want to focus on what had happened, just what was happening now. There would be a time for more tears… more anger… more frustration… more fear… but for now, all there was, was him and Collins, and that's all he wanted.

Tom moved the tray down to the end of the bed and moved over to sit closer to him, placing his arms on either side of Angel's slender body so that he was leaning over him.

"You okay?" he asked the beautiful angel lying there. Angel's eyes flickered with uncertainty.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm okay. I'm _fa-bu-lous_!" he added the last part with a bit of flair and Collins laughed. There were serious moments like these that were somewhat lightened by Angel's diva-ness that tried to lift some of the stress and heaviness off their shoulders. Under the circumstances, he should be depressed; terrified; and, well… different. But with his one true love with him, none of it seemed to hurt as much as it had when he first woke up – and the memories were easier to deal with during the physical recovery.

"Yeah," Collins' voice softened and he kissed Angel's neck and then just underneath his ear, and then his lips, tenderly… smoothly… the kind of kiss that was as soft as butter and could melt Angel's heart twice as fast… or at least, cause it to skip a few beats. "You are… I can't believe you took me back… you don't have to do this… I do not deserve you, Angel…" _(A/N: Those familiar with Rent – think_ _'Christmas Bells')_

"Hush you're sweet mouth," Angel told him. "Don't start again or I'll cry. And I already look like hell… I'll hold you personally responsible should I start breaking mirrors."

"Angel—"

"I won't hear any of it," the drama queen (yes, I said drama!) insisted and cupped Collins' face in his hands. "You hear me? And I'm the patient, so you're supposed to do what I say."

Collins raised and eyebrow. "Since when?"

"Since everyone feels sorry for me and take pity on me!"

"And since when did you take anyone's pity?"

"I don't, but it works really well in getting me what I want."

"Such as?"

"You!"

"Oh yeah?" Collins challenged and lowered his face so that his was just touching Angel's, careful of his broken nose and the various cuts on his face. Their lips just grazed each other and it was like electric impulses crosses paths, and sparks were flying – the magic was still there.

"Yeah," Angel softly met the challenge and smiled innocently, leaning up and kissing him. But this time, instead of it just being a simple kiss, Collins met him by deepening it and moving into a more comfortable position where their passion could be explored more greatly. The softness of Collins lips on his own made Angel wish that this moment could last forever, and as the kiss deepened, a small moan escaped the back of his throat – a moment that indicated the passion and desire they had for each other that knew no bounds… even lasting beyond infidelity and death itself. _Damn I've missed this…_ he thought and didn't shy away when Collins' lips massaged his own, and they could taste each of the others love and its depth, that's how passionate they were about each other and still are.

Collins' hand gently worked its way down Angel's body and came to rest on his abdomen and started massaging him, much to the delight of him. They knew how to work each other well enough to the point where they both had to have each, but also knew when to back off. The nagging voice in the back of Collins' mind kept screaming at him to be careful and to stop before he did aggravate the injuries further. Angel's arm (his good one) slipped around Collins' waist and just pulled him closer, telling him that he didn't care and that he wasn't about to let him go. But that voice continued to grow stronger… and finally he forced himself to break the kiss, though his face remained close to Angel's.

"Angel…" he whispered. Angel's eyes begged him to continue, and his pouty lips were enticing the professor to continue, but alas he managed to find the strength to stop. "We can't… we shouldn't… I won't risk aggravating your injuries."

"And just when it was starting to get good," Angel replied – his voice was breathy as he tried to regain his breath from the heavy kissing… with Collins' lips occupying his own, and the bandages over his nose, it didn't take a brain surgeon to realize that he couldn't breathe, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to feel the warm of their lips intertwined. "Come on…" he seductively used his fingers to trace along Collins' back, trying to manipulate him into giving in, but his lover held his ground.

"I can't," Collins confessed. "Otherwise… I won't be able to stop. You know what you do to me…"

"Baby I can do a hell of a lot more if you just let me…"

"_No_" it pained him to deny them both of something they wanted, but acting responsibly didn't always mean acting fairly."I want to, Ang… but come on, it's no fair…"

"You're a fucking tease…" Angel continued to pout but Collins was relentless.

"Uh huh. You just rest, okay?"

"Whatever."

_Knock, knock_

Thankful that someone had interrupted to prevent him from giving into Angel's playful, and deeply seductive behavior, and they both looked over to the doorway to see it open, and who should be standing there…?

"ANGEL!"

"MIMI! MAUREEN!" Angel lit up when his two of his favourite girls came bounding into the room with what look like… "Oh myGod, you guys went shopping!"

Mimi ran straight over to the bed, on the other side to where Collins was sitting, and Maureen came up behind him before grabbing his arm and yanking him backwards, making him almost fall off the bed.

"Sorry, honey!" she apologized, but not really meaning it, and sat down in his spot next to Angel… Angel also seemed not to notice the dazed and very confused expression on his boyfriend's face as the two girls began to fuss over him and Mimi glanced at Collins and she and him then both looked at Maureen who was talking to Angel at a mile a minute – and Angel seemed to be keeping up with every word she was saying.

"Eww!" Maureen exclaimed when Angel pulled the covers down to show her the 'ugly' hospital gown that they made him where.

"No kidding, I mean… EWW!" Angel was grateful he finally had his girls who shared his appreciation for the importance of fashion and accessorizing, even though Maureen seemed to be more into at the moment than Mimi was.

"Well, don't you worry baby," Maureen smiled and pulled two bags onto the bed. "Mimi and I were prepared for this and so we took the liberty of making a few – _essential_ – stops on our way, and… here!"

She placed the two bags she was carrying within Angel's grasp.

"No way, you didn't!" he squealed, happily reaching for the bags and peering inside. "Oh my God, I love you guys!"

He reached into the bag and pulled out a couple of coloured skirts and a pair of black heels that seemed just his size, and started shaking with anticipation.

"You guys rock! Oh my God!"

"You shoulda seen it, Ang!" Mimi gushed. "The entire street was—oh gosh, I can't even find the words for it!"

"It was insane!" Maureen continued and helped Mimi with the other couple of bags they brought. Standing to the side and watching with amusement, all Collins could do was watch in stunned silence as all three of them fussed over the clothes and Angel was gushing over them and almost crying, knowing that he had real clothes that he was looking forward to wearing.

"Right there…" Maureen started getting all dramatic. "The streets were just filled with stalls and boutiques… miles long, into the distance!"

"And I'm stuck here!" Angel whined.

"Speaking of which," Collins jumped in. "I'm gonna go make a phone call. Can I leave him here without you two jumping all over him!"

"No more than you were just a few moments ago!" Maureen retorted playfully, knowing full well what activities Angel and him had been engaging in only minutes before.

"You'll be right back!" a sudden look of concern befell Angel, and Collins moved next to him.

"Of course, baby," he kissed him and stood up, and then turned his attention to Maureen and Mimi. "Be gentle."

"Be gone!" Maureen gestured, over-dramatically, pointing towards the door.

"We'll take good care of him, Collins!" Mimi reassured him, though neither of them exactly filled him with confidence. Both of them had a tendency to go over board, and with Angel's physically delicate condition they weren't exactly the most trustworthy people to make sure that Angel didn't get over excited and do something that could hurt him further. "Honestly, we won't do anything stupid."

Reluctantly Collins moved to the door and gave one last glance over his shoulder. "I'll be right back…"

"Oh please do, honey!" Angel called after him, flirtatiously. Another thing in common between Maureen and him was that they knew how to push the buttons of their respective lovers – knew how to get them 'hot under the collar' so to speak, and could flirt so well it was a second nature to them. Collins closed the door behind him, leaving the two girls and drag queen to go nuts over the clothes.

"So you and Collins are really back together?" Mimi queried, searching through another bag for one of the purchases she made for him. Angel smiled slyly but didn't say anything, though still confirming what both girls already suspected, and Maureen squealed with delight.

"Oh my gosh… Angel, that's awesome. Congratulations…" her smile faulted a bit. "Are you sure, though? I mean… is he serious about this?"

"I don't know what it is," Angel explained. "But I just… I can't stop loving him. I can't stop trusting him, you know?"

Mimi nodded and understood exactly what he meant, because it was just like her and Roger… there was something about him that just made her love him and place all her faith; all her trust in him, despite what he had done to her before… with the rejection and the constant betrayal and denying of his love for her. So she knew exactly what he meant.

"I know what you mean," she confessed.

"I don't!" Maureen, confused, frowned at her lack of understanding. She's not dumb. She's not clueless. But it was usually Maureen doing the heartbreaking and not being on the receiving end of the heartbreak… first with Mark, and then what she was doing with Joanne… but in a way, her confusion was kind of amusing.

Angel linked arms with her. "I hope you never do…"

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTES: _in the next chapter, Collins seeks counsel from a friend. Samuel's worst fears are officially confirm, and he and Julian get into a confrontation with Roger and Mark outside the hospital. A twist is revealed in the test results…**

**Please review! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Destroyed**

**Chapter 11**

**_SUMMARY:_** **Collins confides in a friend; Samuel gets official confirmation of his worst fears, and then a twist arises…; he and Julian storm the hospital only to be confronted by Roger and Mark, which turns violent.**

**_NOTE: Thanks for all the reviews! Don't worry, I have all your points taken into consideration… this chapter will answer all those questions._**

_**And yes, I am fully aware of the two names of the original characters, Julia and Julian… this is purely coincidental and has no relevance to the story. Julian was a set character from the beginning, and Julia is based on my friend who wanted in on the story. **_

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Collins sat on the bench just outside the hospital's main entrance and stared around at the half-full parking lot, just waiting for his friend to show up. It was now a little after two o'clock in the afternoon; Mimi and Maureen were still with Angel and he could only imagine what those three were getting up to. He also called Roger at the loft and was told that he and Mark were on their way; Collins also called Joanne and she said she'd be there in a few hours, but… it was really a time when he needed his friends – well, Angel probably needed them more, but Collins couldn't help but feel he needed to have someone be strong for him, even just for a while. So he made another call. And now he was just waiting for her to show up and just have someone to talk to – someone from the outside. To the rest of the world, it was him and his friends who were the outsiders who never really fitted in with society, but to them they were 'us'. They were 'together'. The rest of the world, to them, was the outsiders and there was a worldly gap between the two sides – a gap of misunderstandings and fear, and ridicule and uncertainty. But now, Collins needed someone from not of their community to just listen to him for a while and that was hard… to find someone who would just listen and not judge.

He picked up a stick off the ground and just began to play with it idly in his hands, with his thoughts miles away, deep into his mind where he couldn't be disturbed. So much had gone down in the past few days, and it seemed to have aged him over night… but it wasn't like Collins cared at that moment. He had his Angel back, but not in the way he hoped things would turn out – he would've rather that Angel hated him forever if it meant keeping that none of this had to happen. Collins would've rather the whole world hate him and punish him, rather than forcing Angel to face such torment and punishment for no other reason than because he was Collins' lover. And Samuel? Oh boy… Collins wanted him dead… if and when he saw him next, despite what he had promised his Angel, there was no doubt as to what he would do to him…  
Now, Collins as we know him isn't the violent sort… but to hurt Angel was to destroy all the niceness and self control he had in him. Angel was his love; his life… and there was nothing that could be done to change what happened, but there was something that could be done about the future. Angel came so close to dying… and when Collins had seen him lying in the alleyway for that first time – unrecognizable and all that blood… all that blood… if ever a thousand hearts broke at the same time in the world, it was at that site. The world came so close to losing, in Collins' mind, the only heavenly angel who graced the mortals with his presence – that was so painful to have to live with. And knowing he was the one responsible for it? Guilt was a powerful force that could break even the hardest of souls should it be given the opportunity…

"Collins?"

Finally, something – or _someone_ – was able to break him from the depths of his own self-torture and let the light of reality shine into his eyes and he looked up and smiled at who he saw walking towards him. He stood up.

"Hey, Julia." Collins opened his arms and she gladly obliged him a hug. The young college student was dressed in jeans and a plain t-shirt and sneakers, with her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. The perfect-looking college student. Julia returned the smile and had a warm, comforting glint in her eyes… just what Collins needed at the moment.

"Two days and you can't even live without me?" she teased and greatly lightened the dark atmosphere that accompanied everyone who was in or around hospitals. Collins laughed weakly.

"What can I say?" he lightly taunted back. "Just can't get enough of that wit."

"How's Angel?"

"He's, um…" Collins hesitated and quickly glanced around before looking back at her. "He's doing okay… I think he's feeling a little better…"

Julia seemed a little taken back by that comment. "What? Physically or emotionally?"

"Both, I guess…"

"After what he went through?" she asked, surprised and they started walking away from the main entrance of the hospital that led to reception, in the direction of a small, local park that wasn't too far away.

"He's not really thinking about it," Collins explained and they stopped on the edge of the sidewalk to make sure the road was clear before crossing it. "He's enjoying himself with Mimi and Maureen… they brought him new clothes and stuff to play with, so that should occupy him for awhile."

"Well, that'd do it for me… but still… he's gonna have to deal with it sooner or later."

"I know. And he is. Just, in his own way."

"And what way is that?" she continued to question and they started crossing the street. Over the past few weeks as she and Professor Collins became closer, not only had she notice changes in his behavior for the negative, but she had also noticed some positive ones too… like he wasn't pretending to be someone he wasn't. And he seemed a lot more attentive to what really mattered to him… knowledge… students… life… in his classes, he started to teach about how computer-age philosophy could and would impact their future lives, including with personal relationships… love. All Julia could hope for was that he wouldn't resort to how he used to be – in self denial and a lot more reserved.

"He has his moments," Collins candidly told her, and opened the gate to park; stepping aside like a gentleman to let her in first, and the followed closely behind. "He cries… he got hysterical a couple of times… and he told me who it was…"

"No kidding!"

"Nope…"

"Who?"

"Long story, Julia… I'll tell you later… it was an ex-boyfriend of mine."

"Fuck…"

"Yep."

Julia's shock and confusion mixed with her sudden desire to know these people more… including Mark. She had been thinking about all of them over the weekend, and couldn't concentrate on her own work or family or friends long enough to dispel all the questions she wanted to have answered. So, when Collins called and asked her to get to New York, as soon as possible, she was more than happy to agree.

"Angel is up and down all over the place," Collins continued, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Emotionally, he's a wreck…"

"Couldn't expect him to be other way; I don't blame him…" Julia agreed. "But maybe it seems having you with him is helping him through it. He isn't in denial?"

"No. He doesn't deny it. He just doesn't wanna deal with it yet. And to be honest, I don't wanna ask him to… not yet…"

"Fair enough." Julia let the topic slide as she could see it was starting to get at him, with all the questions and stuff. Collins needed someone to listen and that's what she was intending to do, but it was hard not to try give him some advice as he was clearly lost. A few minutes later, they found a bench and both sat down to talk.

"So what happens now?"

Sadly, Collins shrugged and had a touch of desperation in his eyes. "It's only a matter of time…"

"For what?"

"Until Sam finds out that Angel has AIDS…"

Julian leaned back against the bench and crossed her legs. There was something else that was bugging her… something gnawing at the back of her mind and she couldn't get rid of it. If this Sam person had really been Collins' ex boyfriend, then…

"Couldn't he have gotten it from you?" she blurted out, kind of without thinking, and understandably shocking her professor.

"What!"

"The AIDS… I mean, I'm guessing he's the one you were talking about; your ex lover, right?"

"Right…"

"And you have AIDS… you've had it for years… so…"

Thinking that as a possibility, as bad as it sounds, Collins hoped that something like that was the case… that if Sam did have the disease, that he'd have gotten it from him, instead of Angel. Angel didn't need anymore stress and trouble and he was in no position to defend himself, so any reasoning on Collins' part was that he wanted to take full responsibility for what was to come over the next few days.

"We used protection," he explained. "All the time. We both knew the risks, at least… I did."

"Did he know you had it?"

"No."

"Oh man…"

"I _know_, Julia!" Collins interrupted, exasperated. "Fuck this… I know I screwed up again; I know I should've told him!"

"Then why didn't you!" she was slightly pissed at the notion that he wouldn't reveal his sickness even to someone who, she assumed he had an active sexual relationship with. "Professor, I think that's _something_ that should've been considered…"

"Like I said, we used protection. I made sure of that. Even before I knew I had it, I always used it," Collins now found himself in a defensive position, and rightly so. He knew how bad it looked to someone who didn't live the life he and his friends led – it looked like one of promiscuity, random anonymous sex in a world swimming with AIDS infected men and women who were junked up on drugs and alcohol. He hoped that Julia wouldn't fall into that school of thought, and knew she was a lot smarter than that… but he could understand her anger.

"So how did you get it?"

"One time. One time without protection. The guy didn't tell me he was infected, though I doubt he knew either… it was random… a one night stand… but I doubt he knew."

"How could you tell?"

"The way he was talking about people with it. With disgust; contempt. Anyway, the timeline fit after I got tested, which my sister insisted upon after she found out about it. Look," he turned to her. "I know I should've told Sam… it was stupid not to, but right now, all I can think about is Angel lying in that bed with tubes running through his body which are the ONLY things keeping him alive!" Collins was practically yelling now, releasing his anger, pain, guilt and frustrations all at once. Yet all the same, Julia didn't flinch… it had to come to this before anyone could move on. He was carrying a very heavy load and it was hard to not get angry with the world, with God, with anyone who he could remotely tie the blame with.

"So…" she softly thought aloud. "You don't think he could get it from you?"

"No." Collins replied, calmer, and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his coat. "But anything's possible. That's why I hate being away from Angel… whatever happens, Sam will find out one way or the other… and he'll see fit to blame Angel. Sam's not the kind of person to sit back – he won't let it go until he punishes someone for it."

**WITH SAMUEL AND JULIAN**

"So you think you've been exposed to AIDS?" the doctor verbally confirmed what he was hearing from the two men sitting in his office. Whether they were lovers or not was a concern of his, but unfortunately, it was important to note Samuel Michaels' sexual history and any other ways he could've been exposed. The white-haired doctor sat behind his desk with a pen in his hand, ready to ask the questions he had to… but by first impressions of these two men, he couldn't help but be a little wary of them, or how either would react to the news should the test be positive.

"Oh, I know he has," the companion who only identified himself as 'Julian', spoke rather forcefully. "The damn idiot went and fucked a guy who has AIDS…"

"And you," the doctor looked at Sam. "Didn't use protection? Didn't know he has the illness?"

"Would I be sitting here talking to you if I did?" Sam growled, clasping his hands in his lap and rubbing them together nervously. He hated anything to do with doctors, hospitals, and blood tests… "Just give me the damn test and – let's just get on with it!" the intimidation he was giving the doctor did not go by unnoticed, and the doctor shifted uncomfortably in his seats. They looked like the type drug dealers, except about ten times more pissed off, and so he wasn't about to prolong Sam's self-torture. But right now, there wasn't much he could do… it took up to three months for the virus to show up on any test, and as much as that sucked… the man would have to live with his fear until the right time.

"Unfortunately it's not as simple as that, Mr. Michaels," he informed them. "Testing for HIV is an inherently complicated process. The virus does not show up on any tests for at least the first six or seven weeks after exposure—"

"WHAT!" Sam and Julian both screamed in unison, and Sam got to his feet and started pacing the room in a crazed and slightly threatening manner. He then leaned across the desk and grabbed the doctor by the collar of his white coat, startling the old man. "Tell me you didn't just say that…" he hissed. "TELL ME!"

"Sam," Julian pulled him back. "Come on, man… let the dude go…"

"Uh…. I, um…" the doctor stammered and nervously adjusted his glasses. "I am sorry, sir, but there is no other way and…" he kept telling Sam of the reasons why the testing was so complicated and why the illness wasn't showing up on the tests, and explained more about what the disease is and does to the body. Meanwhile, Julian sat back, thinking… something wasn't right and an idea began to form in his head… Sam really hadn't admitted, nor, to his understanding, explored the nature of his sexuality at least not seriously, until he met and 'fell in love' with Collins. If Angel and Collins _are_ in fact lovers, then…

"Test him anyway." Julian instructed, interrupting the arguing going on between the doctor and Sam. It had been three months since Sam and Collins last had sex, so there was now a reason to test him straight away…

"Excuse me?" the doctor looked at him, confused. "The virus won't—"

"I know, I know… it won't show up on the test… just do it anyway."

Sam frowned at him. "What are you—"

"Trust me, bro…" Julian interrupted, in a reassuring tone of voice. "Doc? Can you do the test right away?"

"Well, I… yes. Yes I can, but I don't know what it would prove…"

"Just do it."

The doctor hesitated a few moments before realizing that he wasn't about to defy the will of two dangerous looking men. So while he pulled out a pair of rubber gloves to prepare to draw blood, Julian and Sam turned to face each other, with Sam giving him a look that told him to explain what he just done.

"What the fuck was that about!" he demanded to know, out of earshot of the doctor. "What—"

"When's the last time you and Collins had sex?" Julian knew the answer to that question, but he wanted the idea to form in Sam's mind too. He couldn't believe how his friend could be so, well… stupid… as to not realize the obvious connection. Slowly, after a few minutes, Sam's eyes widened when it dawned on him what Julian was thinking… Collins would never be so reckless as to sleep with someone with AIDS without protection, and by his understanding of their relationship, Sam knew Angel wouldn't keep it a secret from the college professor.

"Holy shi—"

"Yeah," Julian nodded his head. "That's what I'm thinking."

"No… there's no way! Collins may hate me, but he certainly would've told me if he had AIDS…"

"Wake up, Sam!" Julian said. "You totally almost killed off his lover, not to mention almost kinda destroyed his life! I don't think he really believes he as any obligation to you—"

"But I know him," tears formed in Sam's eyes and he bit his lip. It was certainly a possibility that Collins could have AIDS, and if he did, that he could've passed it to him. And Julian was right,he had no obligation to him and had every reason to hate him and make him suffer, slowly, for the rest of his life. But there was something about the 'wise' professor that just told him that he would've said something. "I know Collins. He's not the kind of person who'd hide this, I know that much!"

"Yeah well, what is it you told me he said? He said he's not the same person anymore? That should give you a hint, man! You tried to bump off the love of his life, after raping him and beating him into almost a bloody coma! I think you've pushed him past the point of rational thought, my friend…" Julian looked past Sam to see the doctor preparing a syringe to draw blood. The thing with Sam is that he's still in love with Collins and hated to think that his ex boyfriend would do anything to intentionally hurt him. Call it denial if you will, but it's that thought that kept giving Sam a good night's sleep.

"I just… he wouldn't!" Sam desperately tried to convince himself, more so than his friend. "He doesn't…"

"Look, I assume he had a pretty active sex life with Angel, who I _know_ has AIDS, and It's better to be safe than sorry, so just do it!" Julian insisted just as the doctor turned around.

"Okay," he interrupted them. "Mr. Michaels, if you could please take a seat," he gestured to the specialized chair next to him. Reluctantly, Sam moved over to the chair and sat down, glaring menacingly at Julian who he blamed for putting the thought in his head. Could Collins really be capable of such vindictiveness _and_ recklessness? Well, Julian was right when he told him that Collins was well beyond rationalizing and acting in a logical, concise, and responsible manner – so anything was possible.

The doctor wrapped a pressure tape around the top of his arm to maintain a high blood pressure in the patient's arms, and then tapped the crease of his arm to make sure the pressure was appropriate, and then he gently wiped it with clean gauze to sterilize the area. The doctor then picked up the syringe and Sam gulped when he saw it sparkle under the bright light of the doctor's office and he looked over at Julian, who just smirked at his friend's obvious discomfort – though he couldn't understand why, since Sam was a junkie who was hooked on heroin. Sam just felt nervous when it was someone else holding the needle, that's probably the reason why… but still, it was funny all the same.

The doctor then inserted the needle into his vein and began the process of drawing blood, and all was quite for the few seconds it took for the syringe to completely fill with blood. He then removed the needle and covered the spot with a band-aid and then took the vile of blood and placed it on a tray, just to the side and removed his gloves.

"How long will it take?" Sam queried, standing up and slowly exercised his arm to get the blood flowing through it properly again.

"A couple of days," the doctor replied. "Make another appointment with my receptionist and I'll put a mark of expediency on your blood. HIV tests usually take first priority anyway, but I'll let you know in a couple of days."

"Fine, fine," Julian mumbled and opened the door. "Just hurry it up."

He and Sam exited the doctor's office, with Sam being completely lost in his own thoughts… if the tests came back positive, it means that he's been infected for a while, and there was only one person who could be responsible for it. That was a fact that could not be disputed, and it was crushing him… despite the fact that he's a completely evil man who knew no bounds when it came to corrupting as many people – _kids_ – as possible, Sam was now left completely vulnerable and it was a sympathetic situation for anyone to be in. The fear of not knowing was worse than actually knowing… it was a natural human reaction for someone to fear what or who they do not understand and don't know… in an effort of self preservation, people often are reluctant to engage in any activity that they are unfamiliar with, especially with people who they don't know, or who they thought they knew. Needless to say, if this test came back positive… people were going to bleed. If not Sam, then Julian would make sure of it.

"You ok, Sam?" Julian as, genuinely concerned, as they stepped into the elevator. He pushed the ground floor button and the elevator doors closed behind them, with Sam seemingly out of reality. He didn't think it was remotely possible like something like this could happen to him, and it went back to the fact that he had yet to really embrace his sexuality… he flaunted it, but didn't embrace it, and therefore he wasn't prepared to accept the consequences of his high risk behavior. "Sammy?"

Sam didn't look at him, and just stared at the floor… what was there to say? Something deep inside him told him that the virus was crawling its way through his veins and there was nothing that could be done about it. AIDS was – and is – an epidemic, soon to be turned _pan_demic. And now, he was just another statistic, hurt by the one person whom he had loved more than any other; someone for whom he'd give everything for… it wasn't possible! Now, there was nothing left for him to really live for… Sammy had always held out hope that Collins would come back to him, but once he hooked up with Angel – and Sam saw the love in his eyes he had for that drag queen – it was like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his heart. But of course, we're getting ahead of ourselves here as they had yet to get the test results back, however… he just could feel it in his blood. In his body. His own body was going to start attacking itself and be left vulnerable to even the simplest of disease…

"Sam? I'm sorry…" Julian did feel partly responsible for the depression his friend now found himself in, and it was worrying. Yes, Julian was concerned for Sam's wellbeing – but only usually felt it at 1/8th of a time… more so he was concerned for the welfare of their business dealings, especially with Randy. They needed Randy, and Randy needed them, so it was definitely a 'walking on eggshells' kind of relationship between them… they needed Randy's connection, and he needed their money and supplies. If Sam's personal issues began to threaten that, Julian would put a gun to his head, himself, and pull the trigger without question. As horrible as that sounds, that's what it was like for them growing up on the street – but still, Julian felt bad for Sam; it must've been hard to virtually find out that your life has been cut short by twenty or thirty years, or whatever. But then again, they were all hooked on drugs so if the AIDS didn't kill him, sooner or later his body was going to turn on him anyway and just stop working.

"Sam? Snap out of it…" Julian clicked his fingers in front of Sam's face, effectively 'snapping' him back to reality and Sam finally looked up just as the elevator doors opened.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"Just dandy," he replied sarcastically. "Doin' just fine! Let's just get out of here…"

**2 DAYS LATER – THE HOSPITAL**

Julia had to return to Massachusetts to continue studying for her exams, and had stopped by to say hello to Angel who did remember her, before she left. Two days had passed with relative ease, and each hour that passed he seemed to regaining more and more strength… the dizziness had stopped, and although the pain from his chest, leg, and shoulder was still there, it had significantly subsided. It had now been four and a half days since the attack and Angel's emotional welfare also seemed to be holding up – and of course, Collins was there all that time, gladly obliging him all the cuddles and kisses he could want. Mark had visited a couple more times, and naturally brought his camera along to film, which Angel really didn't mind (although Collins did). All in all, everything had been calm, despite Angel having another couple of breakdowns which he needed to relinquish any emotions that had been built up… and for now, all thoughts of Samuel and fear had been pushed out of their minds.

Now, Collins was asleep on the empty bed next to Angel's, while Angel was being filmed by Mark that he would use for the new film he was making. Mark loved recording the lives of his friends, even the bad times, because there would soon come a time when half of them would be gone, all devoured by the ravaging forces that the virus hit them with… none of them talked about it, but they all knew it was coming. Mark made it his prerogative to document it all; not wanting to waste a minute. The outsider had been brought into his friends lives, and would stay there whether he wanted to or not.  
Angel relaxed against his two pillows, chewing a mint and absent-mindedly staring at the television where another day time soap opera was playing out its boring storylines to the bored and the housewives. Mark was fiddling with his camera once more, extremely annoyed as it kept getting jammed – he was about ready to throw the whole damn thing out of the window.

"Shit!" he muttered and turned his head to get a better look at what was causing the problem, and Angel looked over at him, curiously.

"Want me to try?" he offered, half-heartedly, knowing the answer.

"Hell no," Mark replied, glancing up. "You gotta be kidding… you're about as technical as… as…" he struggled to find the appropriate word. "Joanne!" he finally managed to get out, remembering back to the year before when Maureen was protesting and had fired him to let her girlfriend, Joanne Jefferson, take over. Needless to say, she wasn't exactly 'hands on' and almost blew up some of the equipment, and Maureen had to call Mark to get him to help out. Angel was about as much use with technology as Joanne was, and so Mark knew that the second he would get his hands on it, he'd probably throw it out the window or against the wall.

"That's cold," Angel stuck his tongue out at his friend, who just returned the gesture. "And mean!"

Mark didn't respond and continued playing with his camera, while every now and then looking up at the television to see if anything interesting was going on. Not only were hospitals creepy, but they were also very dull as well – he didn't know how Angel was managing to contain himself in such a bland environment, considering that Angel is not a very bland person.  
But everything was still quite with exception for the soft droning of the television, and the machines surrounding him. Angel looked over to his love and saw Collins still sleeping, somewhat restlessly, but better than he had been for days and there was a look of semi-contentment on his face. That was better than nothing.

"Too quite," Angel commented, feeling extremely bored and finally Mark placed his camera aside and stretched for a bit, yawning, as if silently concurring with Angel's statement. "Maaark!" he whined. "Honey can you get me soda? Or something?"

"Uhh… isn't the point of you being here so you can rest? And _not_ get jacked up on sugar?" Mark counted, reasonably, and slumped down in the chair with no intention of moving. Despite it being in the early afternoon, he found himself being tired for some reason… maybe it's because of what's been happening recently that's not allowed him to sleep well – and the fact that hospitals are so dull its hard not to fall asleep. Angel just did his usual pouting of the lips and looking very damsel-in-distress to try and get his way… it worked quite well on Collins and most other guys he dated… would it work on a straight guy, though? But Mark just rolled his eyes and gave him a look that said 'Sorry, I'm not Collins', and Angel turned away from him, sulking… not childishly, but disappointed. In all fairness, Mark was right… Angel's personality was already high enough without drugs or sugar, and his liveliness he exuberated was more than enough to compensate any dreary surroundings… but this was beyond boring, even for him.

"Hey, if I gotta be stuck in this bed, at least give me something to do!" Angel responded and glanced over at Collins, who was still sleeping. "And obviously since I can't do him at the moment, I need something to compensate…"

"Aww, Angel! Don't!" Mark stopped him before he could go any further. Angel flaunted his sexuality and wasn't ashamed of it… and often enough he made it public news, like a compulsion, which in most part was okay but just slightly disturbing. Obviously, the boredom was overwhelming from the young guy who was so used to jumping around and being so energetic, and now he was forced into confinement by his own body… with a little help from Samuel. Mark didn't even want to imagine what his friend was thinking of at the moment, with his lover lying on the other bed, sleeping. "What is it with you talking about your sex life?"

Angel smiled. "Its non existent at the moment, and I'm merely trying to keep my mind focused on getting better. It's therapeutic."

"I bet it is…" Mark leaned forward and picked up an empty cup which he had noticed had fallen on the floor, and placed it on the side table. "Where the hell is everyone else, anyway?" he tried to see out of the door, which was partially open, but wasn't bothered to move and actually go see if they were out there or not. There was still a restriction on the number of people who were allowed in to visit Angel at any one time, and it had been a while since any of the others showed up… but there wasn't any concern, at least not on Angel's part, as he picked up his make-up bag from the table and opened it, pulling out some nail polish and a small compact mirror.

"Roger's with Mimi back at the loft; Joanne's working; Maureen's flirting with a nurse downstairs; Benny… fuck Benny… umm… and yeah…" Angel seemed unfazed by Mark's question and he usually made it his business to know everything about everyone at any given time, so it came no surprise to Mark when Angel startled listing off where everyone else was. Except for Benny, of course. But all Mark could do was laugh weakly and shake his head in disbelief in how quickly Angel's old, beautiful personality had returned despite what had happened. And there was no other way but to associate that indisputable fact with anything else but Collins' return… Angel felt safest with him, despite the trust issues. But Mark was still cautious. Who knows what's gonna happen over the course of the next few days… weeks… _months_?

"Maureen's at it again?"

"What, you think she stopped?"

"Umm… yeah?"

"Mark you gotta crawl out from under that rock, sweetie," Angel giggled and carefully undid the lid of the nail polish bottle, trying not to spill it. A beautiful deep red colour that could easily be mistaken for blood if he wasn't careful…

"Hey!" the amateur filmmaker started to protest. "I do not—"

"Oh Markie," Angel rolled his eyes and gave an empathetic sigh. "Poor, poor Markie… Maureen's still got you wrapped around her little manicured finger, I see."

"I am not –"

"Hey, I understand!" Angel reassured him, smiling weakly and blinking, trying to keep his strength up so he didn't make a mistake with his nail polish… there was nothing wrong that screwing up applying make-up and accessories, at least not to Angel. However, even though the morphine levels had decreased a little, he still found himself very tired and weak at some points. "Trust me baby, I'm a little weakling too! I mean, you see how I totally went back with my honey? Oh my God… very pathetic for my standards. But love does that, I guess…"

"So why you goin' after me!"

"Well, your situation and mine are completely different."

Mark sat back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest, wanting to hear a good explanation for this. "Oh yeah? Explain…"

"I can't," Angel replied, still undaunted. "I don't understand the science of it. Just trust me. Different."

"Do you ever stop, Angel?" Mark asked in a more amused tone of voice than curious.

"Stop what?"

Mark just shook his head. "Never mind…"

"Markie, things are different now. And things are going to be different soon, too. You'll see!" Angel's trademark cryptic remarks and off-the-wall comments did confuse and amuse a lot of people, no one more especially than his friends. But everything he did say had a meaning; his own special meaning that undeniably made him who he was… and why everyone loved him so much… and why Collins fell in love with him in the first place.

"And you're sure about that?"

"Oh for sure. See? Things are changing," Angel gestured to the man sleeping on the bed, and then to his own injuries… it seemed strange that someone who was raped and almost beaten to death could already have such an outlook on life, and maybe it was Collins being there that helped him through it… but all Angel knew was that he was done with crying… he's alive. And had the best friends; and his lover is trying to regain his trust, which will take time. But Angel was right… things were changing. "Sometimes for good; sometimes for bad, but they're always changing! It'll all come good in the end…"

"After what happened to you, you believe that?" Mark found it hard to believe. Angel pursed his lips.

"After what happened? I have to."

Then, both of them heard rustling in the bed next to them and looked over to see Collins beginning to stir. Angel struggled to pull him self into a sitting position, so Mark stood up and adjusted the pillows carefully as to not put any pressure on the multiple broken ribs Angel had sustained during the assault, as well as making sure that his plastered up shoulder which was causing the most pain. Angel muttered a 'thank you' as Mark gently helped him lay back down and be comfortable. Meanwhile, Collins groaned and rubbed at his eyes; the sudden change in lighting dimensions caused him to cover his face for a brief moment before he finally forced himself to open his eyes, and waited a few moments for his eyes to fully adjust.

"Rise and shine, gorgeous," a familiar, soft, and beautiful voice floated through the air; and just by the sound of Angel's voice, Collins couldn't help but smile and he turned his head to see his love sitting up, smiling brightly. Next to him, Mark was standing there looking somewhat confused for some reason, but he shook himself out of it.

"Hey, Collins," he greeted the sleepy professor, who in turn, sat up on the edge of the hospital bed and looked up at the clock. 1:54 PM. Great. Collins stood up and slowly made his way to Angel's bed side and sat down and kissed him… it was more of a programmed action now than it was of conscious thought, but it didn't mean that each time was any less meaningful or purposeful.

"Hey Mark," he returned the greeting and the faced Angel. "And how you doing?" he asked his injured angel.

"Better and better. And now that you're awake…" Angel said that last part very flirtatiously, and licked his lips; a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He started tugging at the bottom of Collins' shirt, sending very obvious non-verbal signals as to what he wanted to do… the thing was, he was so used to getting his way, and needless to say that he and Collins shared a very strong, healthy, physical relationship… well, it's like depriving a baby of his bottle. And he was just hungry to get his man back into bed that he was really just willing to disregard the fact that he was covered in bruises, bandages, and plasters that were keeping him breathing. Mark took this as his cue to leave.

"I'll leave you lovebirds alone," he said with a tiny hint of wistfulness. Still, he couldn't believe how willing Angel was to forgive and forget what Collins had done; but then again, having a near death experience and almost leaving so many things unsaid… tragedy can reunite even the most distant, broken of relationships. And that can't be a bad thing, right? Mark picked up his backpack and camera and reached the door before turning around. "I'm gonna call Roger to see when he's gonna get his ass back here. Need anything?"

"Oh I can think of a few things…" Angel teased, but directed his comment to Collins. What a one track mind…

"You don't have to go Mark," Collins looked away from Angel for a moment to see his friend still standing in the doorway.

"Um, hell no. I don't think I wanna see this, but thanks anyway!" Mark retorted.

"We're not gonna do anything, man…"

"Collins!" Angel protested, only to be hushed when Collins placed his index finger to his lips.

"You sure you don't wanna hang here for a bit?" a part of Collins feared that he'd lose all control unless someone was here to stop him. Three months apart had done a lot to them both, apparently…

"No, it's cool. Like I said - gotta call Roger. I'll check in on you later, Ang, k?"

"Alright Markie, see you later hun!"

"And quit calling me Markie!"

"Markie! Markie!" Angel giggled and stuck his tongue out, childishly. If this was his way of dealing with the trauma, and that was fine… but there would be no avoiding it as soon as he was physically up to leaving the hospital. All eight of the friends (yes, including Benny) wanted Samuel's blood for what happened, and if the legal justice way didn't work… then maybe street justice would…  
Mark left and closed the door behind him and started walking to the elevator, leaving Angel and Collins alone. Two familiar questions ran through his head... ones he had asked himself before…

_How did we get here? Why am I the witness?_

**JULIAN AND SAMUEL**

Sam stared out over the Hudson River… just staring… not hearing anything; not seeing anything. Everything in his life had fallen apart and nothing would ever be the same… Collins left him and found a new love… he and Angel were now back together, or at least on the path to being back together (and after what happened, if that's not true love, I don't know what is)… and now, Sam had just found out that he has in fact contracted the HIV virus, and that could only mean one thins… if the results have turned up on this test, that must mean he's had the virus for at least three months. And it had been just over three months since he and Collins last shared a bed, _and_ hadn't used protection… therefore, the transfer of the virus could only have come from the man whom Sam had loved more than anything in the world – and now wanted to kill with his bare hands. Julian stood next to him, not knowing what to say. After all, this was the man with whom he had been friends with for over twenty years, and despite their problems, he wasn't about to turn his back on him. Julian was probably more filled with rage and desire for revenge than Samuel was, who was just plain shocked at how all this could happen to him. That line of thought is a bit stupid, really, considering he was a junkie who liked to share his needles with fellow junkies, but still – he didn't think it could happen to him.  
It was now 2:15 in the afternoon, three hours after Sam had received the news from the doctor that the test came back positive. Samuel Michaels had become another statistic in the rapidly rising rate of HIV/AIDS sufferers, which was tragic for anyone really… but now he had confirmation that his life was cut short for real, whether he continued his lifestyle or not.  
Julian had been there with him the entire time, and it was a very emotional scene when Sam got the tragic news – he broke down in tears and was sobbing hysterically as his friend had to physically help him out of the clinic, with his first, new prescription of AZT. As much as he is worthy of hatred and being impaled on Satan's pitchfork and left to burn over an open fire (or something like that!), it was a very sympathetic situation… no one deserves AIDS, not even those who are the human picture of evil. None of Sam's plans for the future were relevant anymore, and yes he did have his own plans… but how could he try to pursue them when life as he knew it could stop at anytime? The moment his heart would finally stop beating was not at all confined to a time limit and that was the most frustrating thing of all! Now he _knows_ he's gonna die before he's supposed to, but unfortunately the AZT doesn't come with a label telling you when it's officially gonna stop performing the necessary functions its supposed to, to delay death and prolong life… it doesn't say when you're time is up. Damn those feeble labels. Not enough damn information.

"So…" Julian attempted to make conversation, not knowing the emotional stability (or _instability_) of his friend. "How you holding up, man?"

Understandably, he didn't get a response, but instead, after what seemed like ages of standing at the river's edge, Sam turned 180 degrees and started walking… he had one purpose in mind…

"Sam!" he heard Julian call after him, but he remained determined in his goal. There was only one place where he would stop, and that would be his destination… at the local hospital.

**TWENTY MINUTES LATER**

"Mark!"

Mark turned around and saw Roger, with Mimi, walking towards him. Ahh, another happy couple – their arms around each other, as if protecting one another from all the elements of the world that could harm them or pull them apart in some way. Mark had just left one happy couple in that hospital room, and it kinda sucked to have to face _another_ happy couple. Mimi came bounding up to him, all cheery and chirpy, and leapt into his arms, almost knocking him to the ground, but Mark managed to maintain his balance and he returned the hug.

"Hey Mims, hey Roger," he greeted them both and pulled away from her to face them both.

"How's our Angel?" Mimi asked of Angel, which is what she did first up all the time. Mimi was concerned because she knew she couldn't provide the comfort that Angel needed, and to an extent, not even Collins could do that… and it killed her to see her friend in such agony. Mimi had fallen into her own hole of self pity that rarely had she allowed herself to become emotionally attached to as many people as she had, and to suffer the pain that she did when someone she loves is in trouble. These were completely new feelings for her, in an overall completely new situation and thus experience for her. "She doing any better?"

"Well, when Collins woke up Angel was already starting to undress him with his eyes," Mark told her. "So I think he's gonna live. However, I don't think Collins will once Ang is done with him – I could see the fear in his eyes. I think he wanted me to stay up there to make sure Angel didn't go insane…"  
Roger burst out laughing at the thought of that, and they all had to put up with Angel's complete whining about the lack of physical satisfaction he was getting, as he wasn't used to it. Now that Collins back, maybe this could finally keep him quiet about his sexual fantasies.

"Well as long as it shuts him up, I say let him do whatever the fuck he wants to Collins."

"Oh I think he's gonna," Mimi chimed in, adjusting the bag that was slung over her right shoulder. "Do you think it's safe to leave Collins up there with him… alone?"

"He deserves all the punishment Angel can give him," Roger told her, smirking. "Anyway, Mimi, you staying?"

"I can't," she replied, apologetically. "Benny turned my fucking heat off again so I'm about to go beat his ass… sure you don't wanna come, baby?" she flirted and kissed Roger's neck.

"As much as I'd love to see you beat the shit outta Benny, I think I'll hang here for a bit," Roger replied, fully trusting her. Last year, he discovered that Mimi and Benny had been a couple at one stage, and that she had slept with him during the time she and Roger were in the process of getting together. Once Roger found out, he exploded and dumped her right there and then, and lost a lot of trust in her… his then fragile spirit was at risk at being crushed again, and he couldn't afford that… not after what happened with April. But, finally, the two made amends and she was able to regain Roger's trust in her and their relationship has blossomed ever since. Now, he had no trouble with the 'trust' issue.

"Mark?" Mimi turned to him. "Come on! It'll so rock, we can tag-team him!"

"Uh…" he stammered in response. "No thanks, Mims. I think you can handle him good."

She shrugged, in a not-caring type of way and gave Roger a quick kiss on the lips before stepping away from them and started walking away in the direction of the loft. "Seeya guys!" she called over her shoulders, not looking back, and skipped away in her usual chirpy way. Mark turned to Roger.

"How can she always be so happy?"

"Who the hell knows?"

"No wonder she and Angel get along so well."

"No shit."

Roger and Mark had been roommates for a few years and they knew each other more than any about else from the group, and rarely did they turn on each other in times of trouble… Now that Roger had Mimi though, she had moved in, and it was definitely uncomfortable for Mark, kind of like the 'third wheel' syndrome. But things settled down until all this shit with Collins and Angel started… now the professor and drag queen were relying on their friends a lot more, and things were getting more complicated.  
They sat down on a nearby bench for a while, just talking and hanging out like they used to, and it was quite refreshing…

"Has Angel said anything else about our good friend, Sammy?" Roger asked. "I mean… does he remember anything?"

"If he does, he's not sharing it… or showing it…"

"Man, he's been all over the place."

Mark reached behind his head and clasped his hands at the back of his neck and stretched out his muscles, feeling the tingling sensation as blood pumped faster through his veins to every part of his body. It was a warm afternoon yet again, and he particularly enjoyed this time of year… just before summer hit, and there was those few lingering moments where a chill would send shivers down a person's spine. To document it all was Mark's passion, for then he didn't have to come out from behind the lens and actually live it himself… but he was content with that.  
But the serenity and peacefulness that existed in their world, when they were left alone, was about to be shattered when across the street, two men came around the corner, out of eye sight from them both. Samuel stood on the edge of sidewalk and impatiently waited for the cars to get out his way… he didn't know what he was gonna do. He didn't know how he was gonna do it. But he know who he was gonna do it to… Collins deserved to rot just as much as Angel did now, and he would put them both through hell for what they did to him. Becoming more agitated with every second passing that kept him from his goal, Sam started cursing under his breath and as Julian stepped up beside him, one could only imagine the thoughts that were going through his mind…  
The traffic cleared momentarily, and Sam seized the moment and hastily crossed the road. Julian licked his lips and looked around the surroundings and tried to make sense of what was going to happen – Sam wasn't so mentally unhinged that he'd try and hurt them in the hospital, would he?  
Julian looked over at the hospital, letting his eyes scan the perimeters for anything that could potentially inhibit Sam's emotional rampage (soon to be physical rampage if he had his way)… he saw nothing and no one of particular interest, but that doesn't mean that good ol' Sammy didn't. Sam came to a complete stop so quickly that his friend almost barreled into him, and Julian grabbed onto Sam's arm to keep from falling over, but again his friend didn't notice, and continued to stare at something.

"What is it, bro?" Julian asked and looked to see what had stopped Sam dead in his tracks. Two men who were sitting on a bench, talking, didn't seem really noteworthy to him, but the look on Sam's face told him that this was something of great significance. "Who are they?"

"Mark Cohen and Roger Davis." Sam replied, unflinching.

"Who!"

"Mark and Roger… Collins' two best friends…" Sam seemed to have calm down just a little, and that was more frightening than if he really did go off the deep end. "They've always hated me…"

"Control yourself, buddy. Middle of the day, public… don't do anything stupid."

"I just found out I have _death_ infecting my blood and every cell in my body, Julian!" Sam growled. "Self control isn't really the most prominent thing on my mind right now."

"Just chill, okay?"

"Fuck you."

"I'll ignore that…"

"Whatever."

Sam started in the direction of the main hospital entrance in which his journey would bring him within very close contact with the two men that, in his mind, poisoned Collins against him and destroyed their relationship. If there was ever a moment in which Sam _would_ lose his temper and get violent, this was it… he hated them more than he hated Angel, and that was saying something.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Roger saw two people approaching them, and human instinct made him give a quick, yet non-interested glance in their direction, however, when he saw a familiar face come into focus, his heart skipped a few beats… in fact, it almost stop.

"Fuck," he muttered and reached over and lightly shoved Mark's shoulder, as he was writing something in his notebook. Mark looked up.

"What!"

"We have company…"

"Wh--?" Mark was about to ask who he was talking about, but stopped, mid-sentence, when he followed Roger's gaze and saw who in fact had struck such a nervous tone in Roger's voice. "Oh shit…"  
They both stood up at the same time and their eyes met Sam's and his friend's… the confrontation was shocking, yet inevitable, and a physical outburst might very well come to fruition… the wild look on Sam's face was enough to tell them that he was beyond pissed.

"Sam, you fucking-" Roger spat at him and started towards him, but was held back by Mark. Julian didn't do the same with Sam, however, and Collins' former boyfriend stormed over to Roger and curled his fist so tight, it quickly becoming white and discoloured from cutting off the blood flow to the tips of his fingers. Without saying a word, Sam took no time to hesitate and he swung at Roger, his fist connected with his jaw. Following a sudden yelp in pain, Roger stumbled backwards, knocking into Mark and sending them both to the floor.

"SHIT!" Mark cried in shock and pushed Roger off of him. Both of the young bohemians were now on the ground and Sam and Julian were standing over them. Rather than being smug, or making some smart ass comment, Sam remained silent, and as quick as lightning he reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a gun, pointing directly at Mark's head. It was broad daylight, but there was no one around, and it was very likely they would be caught… but Sam was way too pissed to care. Julian then reached out and forced Sam to lower his arm, and was greeted by a harsh shove to his chest…

"What thehell is wrong with you!" Julian hissed and wrestled the gun out of his friend's hand, taking control of it and hiding it from sight. But Sam's focus remained completely on Mark and Roger who were struggling from the shock of just seeing Sam now, let alone being physically assaulted by him.

"Where is he?" Sam demanded, not caring who answered, as long as he got one. Roger simply responded by trying to stand, but was soon countered when Sam's foot met his rib cage, once again sending him to the ground in temporary agony. Sam reached down and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, as he gasped and grunted for breath. "Don't make me ask you again, asshole!"

"Who!" Roger managed to cough out, though having a good idea of who he wanted. "I'm not giving you directions so you can finish Angel… fuck you!" his resistance was met by another kick to his torso and he let out a cry of pain, as Julian kept Mark at bay. Finally, Roger managed to struggle to his feet and pushed Sam off of him, before helping Mark up. Feeling the blood trickling from his lower lip, Roger's expression was dark and it was obvious that all he wanted to do was tear Sam apart.

"Collins!" Sam yelled. "Where is he?" he reached into his pocket, since Julian had taken the gun from him, and pulled out a knife just so that Mark and Roger could see that he was serious.

"He doesn't wanna see you," Mark interjected. "I thought he made that clear…"

The side of Sam's mouth twitched… every instinct in his body; every pulsating desire was overwhelmed by anger and there was nothing that was stopping him from unleashing his anger on them, but Julian's voice of reason remained in his head, and this was neither the time nor place to tear at their vital organs with the pocket knife, the same pocket knife that he had used on Angel. As the blade glistened in the sunlight, it drew Mark's gaze and his heart started beating harder against his ribcage when he could see specks of a dry, dark red substance was covering much of it. _Angel's blood…_

"You almost destroyed Angel!" Roger growled darkly and took two steps up to challenge Sam, but again, Mark held him back… this was beyond dangerous now, and the murderous gleam in Sam's eyes told him just enough to know that Roger's volatile temper had to be kept in check, whether or not by force… he had to be kept in control. "You almost killed him! You raped him, you tortured him," he eyes were now ablaze… the rage that was visible could not compare to what he was feeling. Mark remained somewhat cooler, though more shaken, and stood a couple of feet behind Roger.  
Sam and Roger were standing eye to eye…

"He deserved every second of it," Sam whispered, and started smirking a bit. "He destroyed it all…"

"You raped him. Stabbed him. Beat him almost to death. Broke his body… but he still has Collins," Roger taunted back. "He still has his love. And he still has his spirit. That's something you'll never be able to take away…"

Julian was all for beating the shit out of them, but in the cowardly fashion, he preferred to do it out of sight and out of mind from where they were now. He also preferred to jump his potential 'victims' from behind and restrain them, making it easier to control the situation. He and Sam were all about control, no matter how evil or cowardly it seemed. But right now, it was like nothing else existed between Sam and Roger and things were just heating up.

"I found out today… I have AIDS…" Sam explained bitterly. Roger's already swelling jaw dropped in shock and Mark raised an eyebrow… both were thinking the same thing, that it couldn't have happened to a more deserving person. He knew as well as his infected friends that there was no possible for test results to come back so quickly, if in fact Samuel suspected Angel gave it to him, unless…

"I know your friend Angel has AIDS," Julian furthered the explanation, trying to intimidate them as he cracked his knuckles. "And given the circumstances of Angel's and Sam's little encounter on Friday night, I _advised_ him to get tested."

"Wait," Roger interrupted. "There is no way the virus can show up on the test in two days…"

"Shut the fuck up for a minute," Julian told him. "We were just getting to that bit…"

Sam leaned against a light post, still playing with the knife in his hands, wanting Roger and Mark to see it the entire time, as well as the blood. "The doctor told us that AIDS won't show up on the test, but my good friend Julian here, who knows people who know people who've had encounters with a drag queen by the name of 'Angel', actually put that fried brain of his to good use. He knew all about my history with Collins, and that Collins is Angel's lover. Since Collins and I had _our_ little encounter three months ago… Julian made the suggestion that I get tested anyway…"

"And low and behold," Julian took over, smiling at the stunned expressions on Roger's and Mark's faces. "His test came up positive. Now, Sammy here has been a friend of mine, a _close_ friend of mine since we were kids, but that not withstanding, he also happens to hold all the supplies we need, including the cash, for us to conduct our business…" he started to circle the two younger men who were too caught up in the shellshock of this news to really react. "And when his personal business starts to affect him when it comes to business, I get pissed. And right now we're in the middle of a real big deal that's about to go down in the next couple of weeks. Now… how the hell could Sam have gotten AIDS and have it show up on a test after only three fucking days…?"

Roger shrugged, but Mark made the connection for him. "… Collins infected you!"

"Bravo, Mark!" Sam patronized him. "Now, if you'll excuse me while I go _gut_ the son of a bitch, and—"

"Like hell you are!" Roger finally was free enough to lunge at Sam, but before he got to him, Sam held out the knife and waved it in front of him, effectively holding off his would-be attacker. Roger glanced between him and the knife, breathing deeply… blood dropped off his chin and onto his shirt – good thing. "So Collins gave you the virus? Fuck that, this ain't about him…"

"Oh? Enlighten me, Mr. Davis. What the hell do you think this _is_ about!"

"You. You and your fucked up life – you always like to think you weren't like us… that you weren't scum! You flaunted your homosexuality, drug use, and gun running schemes like an addiction and nothing more. You never admitted to yourself that it's your life, that's why you can't deal with it now!" Roger snapped and continued to let the blood floor. He didn't want to bait Sam or Julian, but he wasn't scared to if he was forced into that position. He looked at Sam, and then touched some of his own blood with his finger, and then extended his arm towards him.  
"Here. See? This is what you got running through your veins now. AIDS. 'The virus'. Death. Yeah, I got it too. So does my girlfriend. So does half the fucking junkies in the East Village. You want to live fast, and _not_ die young… you figured if you didn't accept it as your life, you wouldn't have to accept the bad shit that goes down with it. Well tough shit, man… pretty soon you're gonna be dead, just like me… like Angel, like Collins… it's your life. We never liked you because you almost dragged our friend down into the fucking ditch where you belong. And we don't give a shit what you do with your life," not fearing the knife any long, Roger stepped forward and back Sam against the light post again… both Julian and Mark stood there, dumbfounded at what the struggling musician was saying.  
"And how do I know this? Because… you came here, wanting to… _gut_… your 'one true love' as you would say. And you're no different then the rest of us, with or without the AIDS. Fucking delude yourself all you want, but that ain't ever gonna change…" Roger then turned his back to Sam (dangerous move, of course) and walked away, gesturing for Mark to follow, which he did… for some reason, this was more of Roger's fight, or at least he knew what to say better than Mark did… and for some reason, both Sam and Julian remained speechless as their fellow bohemians walked away, having apparently won this battle.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Okay, sorry for the long chapter and please review! So Roger and Mark walk away from the potentially explosive situation between them and Samuel and Julian. In the next chapter, Julia returns and talks with Mark… they get to know each other better. Angel finally opens up to Collins about all he could remember from the night he was attacked. Might throw some other stuff in, depending on how the chapter pans out.**

**Please review and let me know as to whether or not I should continue!**


	12. Chapter 12

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 12**

**_SUMMARY:_ Julia and Mark talk; Angel opens up to Collins about what happened that night… and he remembers a lot more than he wants to. **

* * *

Angel's boredom was starting to suck the air out of the room, and Collins was feeling it through his boyfriend's constant complaining and need for entertainment, not that he was surprised or anything. No one could really contain Angel's larger than life personality, and being stuck in that hospital bed was doing nothing for him in the sense that he couldn't actually do anything. So he just sat there and tried to beautify himself the best he could – the thing he complained most about was looking like hell, so Collins took out the other make-up bag from just under the bed and told Angel to go nuts with it, and it was working. Somehow, I guess by the powers of his remarkable talents, Angel was actually succeeding in making himself presentable, in spite of the bandages and stitches or whatever, and Collins sat there, amused. It was 2:45 in afternoon and again, there was nothing on television and everything was just a little too quite for their taste. They had no idea of what had just happened between Roger and Samuel, but it wouldn't be long until they did know, but for now things were peaceful, and they were just enjoying each other's company.

"Angel, baby, I don't think there's much more you can do," Collins commented, carefully. "You look fine. Beautiful. I don't think it's possible for you to _not_ look gorgeous."

"Honey, no offence," Angel replied. "But I know what I'm doing better than you. It's just a shame these people don't take care of their patients properly!"

"And how's that?"

"I've barely made myself look okay now, but before…" Angel gave a low whistle. "It was bad. Anyway, it keeps me busy. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Whatever makes you happy…"

"_Thank_ you!"

Collins let the subject drop and they went back to doing their separate things; Angel was doing what he wanted and it was keeping him content, and so the complaining was minimal now. Things were so comfortable between them now that it was like nothing had happened, and that wasn't necessarily a good thing… for the better things became, the more Collins became worried that Angel was withdrawing and be more reluctant to talk about what happened between him and Sam, and that wasn't a good thing, obviously. Angel's innocence was no match for the harshness of the reality that was his life, and his kind of dark innocence just made him more loveable, but more vulnerable… and there was never a time when he was more vulnerable than he was now.  
Angel looked at Collins who was simply flipping through what looked like a textbook… and suddenly remembered that the professor still had his professional obligations to take care of, and although the semester was almost over within the next couple of weeks, Collins managed to get a few days off. He told his superiors that a family emergency had come up, and that he would need to take four or so days away from classes, in which he was granted, but wasn't granted an extension to prepare his finals exam for his classes, so he was forced to do that whenever he could, at Angel's bedside. Seeing the somewhat stressed look on Collins' face, Angel reached over and gently touched his arm, gaining the older man's attention.

"What? You okay? Need anything?"

Angel shook his head. "No, I'm okay… what you doing?"

"Trying to get this damn exam together before I get my ass kicked out of MIT again."

"Need any help?"

Collins smiled, touched at Angel's innocent attempt to give him attention rather than take it. He partially closed the book and held Angel's hand to his lips and kissed it.

"No, I got it. You do your thing; I got this."

"I hate seeing you stress, baby…"

"I'm not," Collins insisted. "I'm okay, really. Sure you don't need anything?"

"Yep."

Things fell silent again and Collins continued to examine his book, highlighting several parts of the text and circling bits that he thought he could possible use to add into the exam. He hated this time of year… he taught two classes, both different levels of computer age philosophy, and thus had to write two different exams, which was a pain in the ass, alone. But now, with what was happening with Angel and still feeling the guilt over the whole situation, Collins priorities were more than screwed up. Oh if only he could have the gift of hindsight and foresee what Roger and Mark were gonna say once they got to the room.  
He dropped the highlight marker in the book and lightly shook his hand and exercised the muscles in his hand, thinking deeply about the next philosophical he was gonna put in the paper. 2 hour exam. One hour to answer fifteen short answer questions, leaving the remanding hour to write out a fifteen-hundred word essay… the curriculum set by the board was getting easier as time went on… students today had more resources. Better libraries. Of course, the internet. Quicker, more efficient ways of getting information. And best of all, Collins had to hand his final plan by the end of the week or to say that he was in deep shit would be the understatement of the year. Collins' priority would first and always be Angel and his welfare… he'd give his career up in an instant if it were necessary, and these present circumstances indicated that it probably would be, but still, he wanted to wait until after the semester and exams were over with. He cared about his students' education, whether they did or not, and wasn't about to jeopardize them… hopefully things would hold up for a couple more weeks.  
Collins picked up the marker again and turned the page and skimmed over the theories that he already knew by heart, and thinking of ten ways his Actual Reality theory could beat them all. But alas, he had agreed, as terms of his conditional re-hiring at MIT, to teach what was set down by the curriculum, so he had to follow it.  
Angel finally placed the bag aside, finally satisfied that he had made himself look presentable and there was nothing more he could do, and he sighed – bored. He watched Collins continue to mark the book and make notes, with fascination… the professor was now in his studious mode and it was interesting for Angel who had never seen this side of him before.

"Having fun?" he asked, trying to make conversation. "Collins?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"Hmm…"

"What you doing?"

"Hmm…"

Angel paused and tried to think of how to get his attention, not that he needed it, but because he was worried… the stress that had been put on Collins recently, last week he could've cared less… but now… and a lot of that stress was because Angel wasn't talking about what happened, and there was a lot of guilt there.

"Baby?"

"Hmm…?"

"I'm sorry."

That one caught his attention, and Collins' head snapped up to look at him, totally confused.

"What?"

Angel shifted his position slightly and pulled he blankets up over his chest some more and looked rather… coy. Reserved.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. Collins put down what he was doing, and stood up and pulled the chair closer to Angel's bed and sat back down. If there was anyway to get his attention, a guilt trip was probably the most effective way.

"Wha—? What for!"

Angel linked arms with him. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"What are you talking about?"

"I just… I'm gonna be okay, you know. Right? You don't gotta worry about me anymore…"

"Hey, hey…" Collins moved up onto the bed next to him. "What are you talkin' about, Ang? It's not like I could stop worrying about you if I tried! I'm always gonna worry about you…"

"But I just don't want you to be sad anymore," Angel admitted. "You're lookin' stressed, baby. I don't want you to be because of me."

Collins kissed his hands and couldn't believe what he was saying, but understand why he was.

"I'm not sad. I'm pissed off, yeah. When I find him… God, I swear I'll kill him for what he did to you," he stopped for a moment so he could kiss him again. "And… I'll always hate myself for what I did to you, you know? And now, I'll never be able to stop worrying about you… stop wanting to be with you every second. It's just I have these fucking exams to finish and it's just, I dunno… I'll kill him."

Angel wasn't feeling neglected at all, but he hated to see Collins losing his own spirit; it scared him. There was nothing he wanted more than for things to go back to being how they were before all this shit went down.

"I just want things to go back to normal, yeah? And… part of me wants to hate you, but I can't, and it just gets too confusing, and—"

"Angel, shut up!" Collins hushed him and prevented him from talking further by firmly planting his own lips on Angel's. After the initial shock from it wore off, Angel returned the kiss and his hand found its way to the back of Collins' neck, enticing him forward more as the kiss deepened. It was a fun way to silence Angel's sudden outburst, and seemed to do good for Collins in relaxing. He pulled away.

"I love you. Okay? And I'm not upset. A little stressed, but not because of you. Don't go getting yourself all upset again… you'll ruin your makeup and I won't hear the last of it!" teased bringing a small smile to Angel's beautiful face.

"You gotta work on your sweet talk," Angel whispered, his fingers tracing along Collins' jaw line and he studied every feature of the man, feeling his warm breath on his own face.

"Trust me, that wasn't me sweet talkin' ya… but I can… but since you're still recovering I don't wanna get you too excited."

"You're amazingly self-assured, do you know that?"

"Hell yeah I tell myself that every damn day."

"Cute. Funny."

"I know. You've rubbed off on me."

"Oh yeah? There are other ways I can rub off on you too…" Angel playfully stuck his tongue out, reveling in the attention he was getting.

"Dirty mind, Angel… it can get you in trouble."

"I live for trouble darling."

"Not while you're in this hospital bed, you don't!"

"Whatever."

"Uh-huh."

_Knock, knock_

Both of them diverted attention from each other and looked in the direction of the door as it opened, and Mark peered inside to make sure he wasn't interrupting anything, only to see Angel and Collins in a semi-intimate position, so he took it as an all-clear to enter the room, and opened the door all the way.

"Hey guys," he dumped his bag on a chair in the corner, and partially closed the door behind him.

"Markie!" Angel greeted in an obvious attempt to get under his skin, which it did, as Mark scowled in response.

"Hi Mark," Collins remained nice and got up off the bed. "Where's Roger? I thought he'd be coming with you."

Mark stopped. Should he explain what happened only minutes before? Roger had not sought out medical attention, however as he and Mark walked into the emergency room, the blood on his lips and his partially swollen jaw was a dead giveaway to medical personnel, and after a few moments of arguing with an ER doctor, he finally agreed to get a couple of stitches and so Mark had decided to go ahead without him. True enough, he couldn't hide what happened from Collins and Angel forever, even though they were under enough stress. Angel wasn't even talking about that night, in which it was obvious he could remember a lot of it, so any news that Samuel had taken his violent streak to Roger and himself, wouldn't do them any good… especially for Collins. He felt guilty enough as it is. But they still had to know, before any more surprises jumped out at them.

"Umm… he's downstairs…"

"With Maureen?"

"No, we saw her on the way in… she's gone back to the loft for some reason."

"What's Roger doing then?" Angel took the can of soda off the table (soda which he got from Emily, the charming nurse, who took pity on him after he begged her for a little sugar boost). Collins was way more up to picking up on the subtleties from Mark's body language and nervousness as he sat down at the end of the bed. "Bringing me flowers?"

"I don't know," Mark lied. "He said he'd be up soon."

"Come on, Mark. What's up?" Collins pressed and sat back down in his seat. "You're the worst damn liar. What happened?"

"Mimi's probably got him tied to a leash back at the loft," Angel joked. "That girl's kinky."

"And you would know?" Collins retorted.

"Like I said, he's downstairs," Mark repeated and stood by his initial report. There was no avoiding it… every little thing he did and said would come under scrutiny, as would they all. He sighed, dejectedly. "There was an incident outside a few minutes ago…"

Angel and Collins stared blankly at him, silently imploring him to continue… but Collins still couldn't help but get nervous from the calm, yet nervous demeanor that Mark was failing miserably to cover up.

"What?"

Mark stood up and started pacing at the end of Angel's bed and tried to find the right, delicate words to put this. Now wasn't the time to hide anything anymore, and again they would eventually find out… Roger wasn't as tactful as he was, and wouldn't have a problem letting his anger and frustrations out in front of them. So he turned to the

"Samuel showed up."

"WHAT!" Collins exploded and caused Angel to jump a little, who grabbed at his hand, but Collins stepped away and stormed around to Mark. Angel gripped one of his pillows and that's when anxiety and confusion began to set in. _Samuel's here?_ His mind panicked and soon that panic resonated through his body and he started sweating, and he could feel the pulsations; the quickened blood flow through his wrists and hands, and he became flustered. All of it from hearing Sam's name, yes, but also hearing that he was close by…

"Wh… where's Roger?" Angel stammered. "What happened?"

"We were outside, and Sam and his friend came up to us… he was pissed… Angel, he found out you got AIDS, he got tested… he's got it!"

Angel's breathing deepened and he was hyperventilating. Both Mark and Collins rushed to his side and tried to calm him down, but the thought of Sam running around in the hospital trying to find him, after finding out he has the virus… he burst into tears and felt Collins sit down next to him and gently held him as he cried.

"Where is he!" Collins demanded to know… his voice was low and dry sounding. "I swear I'll kill him… Mark, where is he!"

"I don't know, man! He and Roger got into a fight; in each other's faces… he pulled out a knife…"

Angel gasped and started shaking even worse when he was told that Roger was potentially injured, and Collins held him still at a risk of causing further pain to him, but he kept his focus firmly on his nervous friend on the other side of the bed. Mark continued and quickly added…

"No, Roger's okay. Got a split lip; a swollen jaw. Nothing major. They really went at it. But that's not it…"

"What?" Collins pleaded to know. Knowing Samuel as well as he did, there's no way he'd back down after losing a fight, or being disrespected in any sort of way, so the chance that he was still in or around the hospital was very good.

"You guys know… he couldn't possibly have had a positive test because of what happened on Friday…"

"So?"

"_So_? Fucking hell, Collins! How the hell do you think the damn test could be positive then?"

The tension in the air was thick, like a cloud of impending trouble was hanging over their heads and Angel was shivering uncontrollably now though it wasn't cold. The evil he saw in Sam's eyes was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life – being the loving person he is, Angel didn't know it was possible for one person to have so much hate, until Sam's dark eyes connected with his own. Remembering events of that night that he didn't even know that he could still remember came back to him and hit him like a ton of bricks, and like a ton of bricks… it was crushing. A tear rolled down his face and reflected the light of the room… it fell across his lips and the salty taste of his own fear and panic soaked into his lips and gently grazed the tip of his tongue, and lingered there. His eyes glazed over and for a few moments, reality became non existence, and all he could see, feel, smell, taste… was that night. Reliving it was the last thing he wanted to do, so that's why he blocked it out… that's why he was so involved with what everyone else was doing, and keeping a happy spirit – because he didn't want to remember anymore. But now he had no choice, and Mark had been right… it came back hard. There was no way he could avoid it, and because he tried to block it out, he didn't know how to deal with it. As Collins continued to demand that Mark tell him where Samuel went, or to at least give him more information than he was willing, Angel just sat there… right then, he couldn't hear his lover and his friend bickering back and forth. He couldn't hear anything. The fear that Sam would find him was overwhelming to his reality, defined by his own senses. Then, everything cleared and returned to normal…

"Mark, what the fuck are you saying?" was the first thing that he heard and looked up to see the two of them in an apparent argument.

"You're the college professor! It's not hard to figure out" Mark replied, his snide remark cut through the air.

"What!"

"He got it from _you_, Tom!"

Collins stared at him. "Excuse me!"

"Think about it, man…" Mark urged. "The test came back positive… he's got the virus. It couldn't have shown up on a test because of what happened with Angel. You and Sam are ex lovers, it ain't hard to figure out!"

Shocked at the revelation, Collins fell back against the wall. Angel was just as shocked to hear this as he never thought Collins would so reckless as to expose someone else, even Samuel, to the horrors that were brought about by this disease. A part of him felt instant relief that Sam couldn't hold him responsible for destroying his life, but he couldn't blame Collins for it either… but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. Retribution was inevitable coming from a person like Sam, and there was no preparation for it.  
And what was going through Collins' mind? Well, not a whole hell of a lot, because he was so sure that Sam _couldn't_ have gotten it from him, however didn't think to accept some of his own words. It was during _one time_ that he had contracted it. There was _one time_ when he and Sam didn't use any means of protection… so really, he shouldn't have been too shocked, but he was.

"Where is he?" he repeated. Now his desire to kill Sam was raging… but more so his anger with himself.

"I don't know! But he is pissed, and is coming after you!"

"Uhh… Mark?" Angel's soft voice eased the tension and both of the other men looked down at him. If he was forced to remember the night he wanted to forget, then he would at least take the next step in repairing his relationship with the man he loved… he would share it with Collins, too. Who knows, maybe it'd do him some good, too, right? In the face of potential danger, it was the least he could do. "Umm… could—could you kinda give me and Collins some space for a minute? I kinda need to talk to him…"

Mark glared at Collins, who just returned the same look, and said to Angel, "Sure. Sorry, Ang. I'm gonna go get some coffee or whatever."

After he left and closed the door behind him, Collins sat back down with Angel. "What's… wrong?" he saw the defeated look in his eyes and saw the impact this latest news was having on him. "Ang, I'm sorry, I— he's not coming near you, I swear… I'm not leaving you, this has nothing to do with—"

"Stop, stop," Angel silenced him. "It's not that, I um… I guess it's just that this has all gotta come out sooner or later, and um, I'd rather I'd go through it with you then by myself, and uh…" he stammered and wiped his dampened cheek with his hand. "Um…"

"Angel, what? What is it?"

Angel pulled him closer and linked his fingers with Collins' – not even a crowbar could tear them apart. "I couldn't bear to lose you again, Tom! Not now… not again… not by Sam!"

"Hey, it's cool, he's not gonna hurt me," Collins reassured him, though wasn't fully convinced himself. Sam was dangerous. That was a fact that couldn't be disputed, but what Angel needed right now was comfort, and not to get worked up by any of it. "Baby he won't hurt me, I promise. What is it you gotta say?"

"I… I… It's about last week.. I remember…"

**MEANWHILE, WITH MARK**

"Mark?"

"Julia?"

Not expecting to see each other again so soon, Mark stood up from where he was sitting in the cafeteria, as Julia Sampson walked over to him, dressed in neat and casual attire, though still looking like she had an exhausting day.

"How you doing?" he asked with slight surprise. In return she shrugged and slouched down on the other cold, hard plastic chair and dropped her bag next to the table.

"Tired," she replied and rubbed her eyes. "Came to see how Angel was doing… even though I don't know him well. Just concerned, you know?"

Mark sat back down. "Yeah, I get it. Angel sorta has that affect. But I'm guessing you're here for Collins too, right?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Lucky."

"Uh-huh…" Julia then reached into her back pocket and pulled out her wallet, which was covered in stickers and bright colours that Angel would absolutely adore. She stood up and looked over to the counter where she could get some food and a drink… she just needed sugar to wake her up.

"Want another coffee?" she offered.

"Nah, I'm good."

"Okay…"

Mark watched her walk away, and still was intrigued by her… she definitely seemed like the type of person with whom Collins would have a good connection with, and he could see why his friend wanted her friendship, and even wanted to protect her from 'their' world. She seemed kind of… well, perfect. Innocent. Untouched by the torments that many people facing poverty faced, and she seemed to come from a good neighborhood, and perhaps a well-off family. Why would she willing come into their lives and be subjected to the corruption that they were used to, but she obviously wasn't? Mark sat there and thought about what she was thinking… why she'd wanna come into this place, why everyone else was trying to break free? But she cared. An outsider who came from money actually cared rather than judged… that was a rare kind of person to find. Mark had a history of falling in love with the wrong type of girl (I.E. Maureen)… and funny enough it seemed to be the wrong type of girl to whom he was most suited with and most comfortable being around. Don't assume anything, I'm not saying he's falling in love… far from it… he barely knows her. But his history suggests that he does tend to go for the type of woman with whom you wouldn't necessarily associate him with… and that was kinda cool. But with Julia, he just felt intrigued. Mark wanted to know more about her, and maybe a good friendship could come out of it – they were both very loyal to their friends; worked hard at what they did… so there was commonalities there that provided sufficient ground for them to connect with. So who knows what could happen?  
At the same time, Julia could feel his eyes on her, and was basically thinking the same thing. From what she talked about the last Thursday night, he was basically an outsider in his own group of friends, who society already considered as being the outsiders… that's gotta be tough. Julia's friends couldn't understand why she was so obsessed with New York and those who came from lower class neighborhoods or whatever. But she was. These type of people with whom Collins lived with and around… they were real. Not materialistic or greedy; they just were content with having themselves and each other to survive and be happy. It was real. No one was blinded by money or the pretentious world where she had been raised in, and she found that the coolest thing of all… it was interesting to study it all.

"Just a coke," she told the attendant, deciding not to eat anything… hospital food was something that was left to be desired.  
After she paid for her drink, Julia turned around and faced Mark, who quickly looked away.

"Something on your mind?" she asked as she approached him again.

"Just all this shit that's going down," Mark replied. "Sam came back, got into a fight with Roger… the whole AIDS thing… he has it… from Collins."

"Are you serious!"

"Well I wouldn't lie about it. He's on a war path. Roger is getting stitches in his lip… Collins wants Sam's blood and Angel's emotional stability is on the edge of a knife. Couldn't get more serious than that!"

It was surprising to Julia as to how quickly things were turning to hell for her professor and his lover, and it was a cultural shock to come into this 'world' where values and standards are so different to the ones she was raised with, and she was still in America! Cultural divisions in America were just as big as those internationally, but to see if forcing her friend to become someone who he clearly wasn't. Collins wasn't vengeful. He wasn't normally vindictive. She didn't want to see him get hurt, but she still didn't want him to become someone or some_thing_ that he would regret later on. Mark saw her confusion.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"It's just stuff you shouldn't know about."

Julia sat back. "Why's that?"

"Because I can see it on your face, that's why."

"See what?"

"Confusion. Anger. Wondering how can people let this shit happen, when really here it's a way of life."

"Is that surprising?"

"No. Doesn't mean you should be here for it."

She sipped her coke and gazed around at the other visitors to the sick, dying, and recovering…

"How long have you known Tom?" she asked, wanting to know more about all of them, really. Especially her professor. It hit her so hard, regarding just how much Collins had to hide from everyone in Massachusetts just so he could keep an ounce of dignity among his MIT colleagues and students… he had to hide who he was.

"Years." Mark replied, drinking his coffee. "Can't remember how long."

"He's so different from when I met him. Is it like that all the time?"

"What?"

"Having to hide yourself from the rest of the world."

"Here? No. But I get why he would have to when he left," Mark was right and none of them had to hide themselves; no one really thought to do so. Having Julia ask him this now, wasn't surprising, but kind of annoying. She really didn't understand and was having trouble doing so…

"It's so different… so real. I prefer it to back home..."

Mark almost spit out the warm coffee, gagging a bit before he managed to regain control of himself. "What? Look, you really have not lived here… sometimes we don't eat; don't have heat or water or whatever… trust me, it's something you don't want."

"I just want to be real, that's all. Not what everyone else wants me to be."

"Can't be that hard. At least you have people who care what happens with your life."

"So do you!"

"True. Julia, you want to see how it is? Then stick around," Mark challenged. "You'll see."

"Is that a dare?" she grinned.

"Maybe."

"Wanna put money on that?"

"I'm serious!"

"So am I."

"Julia!"

"Sorry!" she laughed. "Honestly, Mark. Lighten up."

"That psycho, Sam, held a knife to me and Roger and threatened to 'gut' our best friend. Lightening up really isn't an option right now."

**BACK WITH ANGEL AND COLLINS**

Collins held his sobbing lover in his arms, and could barely keep himself from turning into an emotional car wreck either. Angel had just finished telling him of what happened in Central Park, and remembered the words which Sam had whispered into his ears…

"_Scream and your blood will paint the sidewalk a pretty red colour…"_

The images flashed so vividly through his mind that it was like being there and suffering through it all over again. The physical pain was masked by the psychological torment that ripped through every inch of his soul and tore a hole in his heart which had barely begun to mend. His throat constricted with each sob and release of emotional pain, and his hand squeezed Collins' thigh, as he sat on the bed next to him. The knife that was pressed against his skin had teased his nerves and it was cold and unforgiving, teasing her with its mercilessness as it wielded the power to painful cut her life short, so to speak. His inability to scream for help was only further heightened when Sam threatened to do things to him that would keep him alive, yet in a lot of pain.

"He held the knife under my shirt…" he weakly whispered and raised his eyes to meet Collins', and could see the tears threatening to fall. "And forced me out of the park… he took me to that alleyway where you found me…"

"Angel…"

"Let me finish before I change my mind," Angel interrupted and took a deep breath. "He, um… he… he threw me against the wall… that's when I hurt my arm… he blamed me for everything!" his voice cracked with emotion, prompting Collins to kiss him more and provide a comforting atmosphere. Angel knew he couldn't be hurt now, but he was just scared that Sam would do something stupid to Collins, and it was a fear he could not shake himself free of.

"He threw me to the ground and stood over me, and put his hands around my neck. I thought he was gonna strangle me. And, he hit me over and over again. I tried to tell him about the AIDS, but he wouldn't listen. He wasn't prepared to listen to anything I had to say… I was handcuffed; I couldn't do anything, I—"

With every painful word that Angel could muster the energy to speak, Collins just wanted to take him away from it all… maybe go back to Mass… but he knew that wasn't possible, as this was Angel's home. He belonged here; they both do.

"Angel, you don't gotta explain if you can't—"

"I have you!" Angel insisted, desperately. "Okay? I can't deal with it by myself! I won't!"

"No one's asking you too. Just when you're ready."

"When am I ever gonna be ready, Collins?" he cried. "When? He pulled the knife out and… I managed to break free. Just for a bit. I could barely walk or talk… everything was blurry and dull, I thought I was gonna die, but I didn't want to. Not before…" he stopped, unsure of wanting to say what he was about to say.

Collins frowned. "Not before_ what_?"

Angel shook his head. "Not before I told you that I'm sorry... and that I forgive you… and that I love you."

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Angel's retelling of what happened to Collins is gonna continue through to the next chapter. I just thought this was a good place to stop for now. Sorry this chapter wasn't as interesting as the others, but it sets up for the next ones. Some parts may seem repetitive, and again, I'm sorry. But it's all part of the story and I know what I'm doing... it's all got a purpose.  
In the next chapter, Angel and Collins continue to talk. Julia visits them. **


	13. Chapter 13

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 13**

**_SUMMARY:_ Angel continues to tell Collins everything he remembers. Julia visits. Collins has a flashback to when he and Sam were together… and it ain't gonna be pretty.**

WARNING: This scene's rating has gone up for an intimate scene. Nothing particularly graphic, but this is just a warning, again, if you feel uncomfortable with m/m love scenes.

* * *

"He pushed me to the ground…" Angel continued to explain, now calmer because he felt Collins strong arms around the back of his neck and rubbing his stomach, in a soothing motion. The massaging had a very calming effect and Collins did all he could to keep the almost-hysterical street drummer from going off the deep end… and it was hard, considering how close he, himself, was coming to losing it. The pain in Angel's voice echoed off the walls of the small room and reverberated in his ears, as if hitting him multiple times in the stomach with each word spoken. It was hard not to lose control and break down, but for Angel's sake, he did his best… only a single tear managed to escape his eyes and it silently dripped onto Angel's blanket. Resting comfortably next to his Angel, he was able to catch every word and every hint of pain and terror that soaked the graphic nature of what he was being told. Collins kissed the tips of Angel's fingers and his gentle expression comforted the traumatized, injured Angel into continuing… he had been right. He needed to say this now. And there was no other person he'd rather share his pain with.

"And… he…" he stopped again as his chest tightened from the grief and a rush of pain constricted his breathing and he gasped from the shock of the sudden pain that overcame him, and Collins sat up a little. Sobs were heard and Angel couldn't hold them back any longer… flowing down his face in rapid succession, like tiny rivers of pain… it was a crushing sight.

"It's okay, baby," Collins whispered, rubbing Angel's chest lightly. "Shh… take your time… breathe…"

"I just… he…" Angel's face grimaced from sheer terror and the physical toll on his body wasn't helping much, either. Finally, after a few moments of breathing deeply and trying to relax as much as he could so the pain could subside, and more of Collins' soft, soothing words, Angel was able to regain a little composure to finish saying what he had been attempting to say. "He… as he threw me down, he ripped my shirt, and…"

"Angel, stop… we can talk about this later; when you're feeling better! I don't wanna see you like this…"

"Then leave!" Angel snapped, unintentionally and using the back of his hand he wiped his cheek. _Fuck…_ he thought when looking at the back of his hand. His make-up was totally smudged. Collins didn't move, and was unfazed by the sudden change in Angel's temperament – he couldn't fault him for it. "Either way, I'm talking… me… I'll tell anyone, but I gotta say it! And… I want it to be you. You said you'd listen! You said you wouldn't leave!"

"I won't," Collins cut him off. "I'm sorry, Ang, I am… I just worry that you're gonna hurt yourself more… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, you can believe that."

"I'm sorry… it's so hard!" Angel sobbed, closing his eyes, and running his fingers down the front of Collins' shirt, and then lifted the shirt so he could feel the warm skin against his own. "He… he held the knife to my throat! And… I tried to run but I didn't get far and… he… after he threw me down, Sam put his hand on my thigh and started kissing me."

For Collins, the thought of his ex putting his filthy lips and slimy hands on Angel's beautiful body, forcing himself onto the vulnerable and petite drag queen. It was sickening. How he was able to maintain himself and not go running out of the room to hunt Sam down, whom he knew was still on the hospital premises, was beyond Angel's comprehension. But, simply put, it was love. And to those of us who are most familiar with their history together, their love for each other was deeper than any other… or at least, they had the most understanding between one another.

"I couldn't scream. I was scared. It hurt so bad… he straddled me. And he leaned down and said…" the words that Samuel had spoken were worse than the actual beating itself; worse than the rape. It was evil… haunting… and Sam knew it. He had carefully worded every sentence he wanted Angel to remember, and it was working…

"He said… _'I'll give you a taste, of what Tom and I once shared… and what you took away,'_ and I still said nothing. I just begged him to stop. He didn't laugh in my face or taunt me… he just wanted me to remember it, Collins!" Angel became more hysterical, and gripped at Collins' chest with more ferocity and was actually at the point where he accidentally scratched the professor's chest, causing him to stifle a cry of pain – he had bitten his lip to keep from yelling out. Angel opened his eyes when he heard Collins groan and felt the man move back slightly.

"Baby I'm so sorry!" he cried and attempted to sit up, but Collins held him down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it I…" he couldn't finish his sentence as he became incoherent and let the tears take over, and as expected, his lover didn't turn away or back off.

"Shh, shh…" Collins comforted, and at the same time he silently winced at the intensity of the pain. Angel's nails had dug into him with an incredible force, so using his one free arm that wasn't comforting his grief-stricken lover; he managed to unbutton his shirt to the point where he could fully inspect the wound, and was surprised to see that Angel had actually managed to draw blood!_ Oh shit…_ he told himself and as Angel still cried and held onto him, Collins looked at the table to see if there was anything that could stop the blood as it trickled down his chest. The sticky red liquid of life quickly seeped through the wound and droplets fell onto Angel's sheets. Seeing a box of tissues there, Collins reached across and grabbed as many as he could and pressed them to his chest. Almost immediately, blood had soaked through the tissues and they stuck to his chest, and so forced him to look around for something better to mop up the blood with. It wasn't like it was flowing out of his chest, but there was enough of it to warrant the use of a towel, and so he grabbed it and held it to his chest with one hand, while rubbing the back of Angel's neck with his other hand.

"Collins, I'm sorry," Angel looked horrified when he finally noticed the damage he had caused, and wanted to help, so he reached up and pressed the towel to Collins chest. "I didn't mean it, honestly, I didn't, I—"

"Angel, you don't gotta apologise, baby, I got it," Collins removed his arm from around Angel and held the towel in place while taking Angel's and bringing it to his lips again. The kisses were sweet and tender, and in a weird sort of way… the scene was so symbolic: Collins kissing Angel's fingers while both their hands were covered in blood. Love beyond pain; love beyond death…

Barely calmed down, Angel watched what he was doing though did nothing to stop him, because there was nothing to stop. His chest rose and fell, exhaling and inhaling air with a sort of distorted, constricted feeling… Collins then looked up at him, with his dark brown eyes glistening."I'm not going anywhere. Never again."

"I didn't mean any of it, Tom," Angel looked him straight in they eyes and cupped his face in his hands. "What I yelled at you that night… I didn't, honest to God, I didn't… Sam then said something else. Something I can't forget, he burned it into my memory!"

"What is it, baby?"

"He said… he said… '_You will feel it for the rest of your fucked up life_' and then he… he…" Angel couldn't even say the word as it pained him so much. Collins knew what he meant though and leaned closer to him, just so that his head touched Angel's… his warm breath caused the hairs on the back of Angel's neck to stand up.

"As he did it, all I could think about was you. Just you."

"Angel… you're the bravest person I've ever known," Collins gently told him in between kisses on his neck. "How you could…" his throat closed a bit and he swallowed the lump that was there. "How you could forgive me… and… and still get through that… and be Angel… I don't know how you do it!"

"That's just it! I don't know who I am anymore," Angel told him. There was a lot of innocence in that remark that encapsulated him in a somewhat naïve demeanor that was very charming and sweet, even when he didn't know he was doing it. Collins saw it in his eyes – behind the fear; the terror; the trauma… there was still love. Pure love. Angel's spirit had been buried deep, but it was not lost and it certainly was not dead…

"You're the beautiful Angel I fell in love with… who saved me on that Christmas Eve… from the cold. From myself. You're the Angel who single-handedly breathed life back into all of us and gave us faith in something beyond how and where we lived. That's who you are."

Collins' perfect, accurate description of who Angel was seemed to sum up the spirit of everything he stood for, and as he listened to the worlds, he couldn't help but think about what he had done wrong. Angel shook his head and watched Collins adjust the towel on his bare chest.

"I'm not perfect," the younger man whispered. "Tom, I'm not… I just… never believed people could be so evil, you know? I don't remember anything afterwards. He pushed me against the wall again, and I saw it! Pure evil. And then I knew… evil was taking over… no matter what I did… he raised the knife, and then… everything went blank." Angel licked his lips and stared up at the ceiling.

"And you are love, Angel…" Collins countered, lovingly, still placing kisses on his lover's neck. "And you lived… you survived… you won… so what does that tell you?" he smiled down at him, and Angel pondered his words. Then… he smiled back.

"You're sweet talkin' is getting better."

"I try."

"You don't have to… you succeed."

"We'll get through this. All of us."

"I know."

"And Ang?"

"Mmm?" Angel was momentarily lost in Collins' eyes. Mesmerised.

"You are perfect."

**THIRTY MINUTES LATER**

Collins sat on the empty bed next to Angel's, the one he had slept on earlier that day, and waited while Emily applied bandage tape to the scratch wounds after applying an antiseptic cream. She had entered the room about fifteen minutes earlier, and had seen the blood and demanded to know what happened – blood on the towel, bloody tissues, a little blood on the sheets, blood on Collins' chest, and Angel in tears… not a good situation to walk in on, and she initially thought Angel had gone nuts and attacked his lover, though saw that it wasn't possible. Angel was incapacitated to the point that he couldn't move around too much without causing more harm to himself, and so she patiently listened to Collins as he briefly explained what happened.

Angel watched the nurse tending to Collins' wounds, while thinking about what his words were… it was true… him surviving the attack was a triumph in itself. And Angel couldn't stop loving, no matter what happened to him… that was a part of him that couldn't die. It probably would've if Collins hadn't come back… but still, it was there.

"You okay, Angel?" Emily asked and picked up another piece of tape and pressed it against the wound.

"Need anything?"

"No I'm good."

Emily then directed her attention at Collins, who seemed perplexed at something. "Keep it light. We can't have him stressing out more; it's not good for him…"

"I know…"

"Angel's injuries could sustain further damage if he keeps getting upset."

"I know…"

"Okay, done. Don't touch it, and it you need anything you know where I am. Both of you," Emily finished and removed the rubber gloves and stared intently at Collins. "I mean it. No aggravation."

"I_ know_!"

Emily took her cue to leave and gave a quick once-over of Angel's vitals, checking the operative condition of the heart monitor before she left the room, and then all was quite again. Angel stared at the bandages that were on Collins' chest, knowing that he caused it, but he didn't feel guilty for some reason… it was weird. He watched Collins slip is shirt back on and do the buttons back up and wondered how it was possible for them to go back to normal when everything seemed to be against them. Having told him of what he remembered from that night did lift a weight off his shoulders and maybe even is a step in fixing the trust issues he has with Collins; but with the probability of Sam running around the grounds trying to find them being as high as it was, Angel's dependency on his lover was going to be intense. And he wasn't sure whether he could let himself be dependent on Collins again at the risk of getting his heart torn to shreds.  
He began to wonder where everyone else were, having the sudden desire to see them all and have them all here with him again. Roger and Mark were in the hospital; Mimi and Maureen were at the loft; Benny was… who the hell cares where he was; Joanne was either working or with Maureen. They were scattered all over the place doing their own thing, which wasn't new, but Angel got the sudden desire to have his friends around him… to feel safer. He yawned, not escaping the attention of Collins.

"Tired?"

"Yeah…" Angel replied, yawning again and feeling the medication swim through his bloodstream, systematically slowing his body functions down enough so sleep could take over. It was working well as he felt his eyes drooping and the desire to close his eyes became unbearable. His eyes became blurred and the soft humming of the machines next to him were the only things that kept him awake and kept him from slipping into his unconscious world where things were hopefully a little more peaceful. The morphine wasn't just effective in killing the pain; it also acted as a nice inhibitor of dreams… therefore, no room for nightmares. An escape.

Collins watched his love drifting to sleep, and tried not to disturb him, and so he just sat back, with one hand protectively covering his chest. Surprisingly Angel had gotten a real good grip on him, and although he didn't need stitches, it still hurt. A stinging sensation radiated from the room, but Collins remained undistracted from his thoughts and the room was quiet once more. A few minutes later, he looked over to see how Angel was doing, only to see that his eyes were closed and with exception to the contraction and relaxing of his chest with every breath, there was no movement. He was asleep. It was somewhat relieving because the look on Angel's face was one of contentment… a sort of peace that he didn't get to experience when he was awake. A part of Collins wished that if _that_ was what it took for Angel to be at peace, then he should remain sleeping for longer. I know, that doesn't sound good, but it was obvious that after everything that happened – any way that Angel could be afforded some peace couldn't actually be a bad thing. What was it that they all learned last year? No day but today? Those words seemed to take on a literal meaning that no one really wanted to face – that no matter what, each day that came to pass could in fact be your last and that how your last day may come, may be in fact be encapsulated in tragedy and heartbreak. That maybe, you wouldn't be granted the opportunity to say goodbye to the ones you love… No day but today… the negative connotation that could be derived from those words was more prominent and even applicable to this situation than the positive one. And it was a painful reality to deal with.

_Knock, knock_

Collins sat up straight and emerged from his thoughts as soon as he heard another presence wanting to enter. He didn't respond, but didn't need to as the door opened anyway. Whoever it was, he really wasn't in the mood to talk with anyone. He was at the stage now where he wasn't angry or full of vengeful rage, or sad and wanting to cry… Collins was just at the point of not caring anymore, except for Angel. He didn't have the energy to care about anything or anyone else.

"Professor?"

Seeing Julia step into the room, Collins instantly got to his feet. "Hey…" he greeted with less enthusiasm than he hoped. "What you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be studying or whatever?"

She shrugged and closed the door behind her. "I came to see how you were doing… both of you…"

Collins met her in the middle of the room and without waiting for her permission, he pulled her into his arms, affectionately embracing her. A little stunned at this outbreak of affection, Julia could feel how badly her professor was hurting, and so simply returned the hug. Then, Collins let out a yelp and leapt backwards, suddenly, gasping and gripping at his chest.

"What!" Julia stepped forward, concerned and confused. He appeared to be in pain of some sorts. But he just held his arm out to keep her back a bit, and waited for the pain from his chest to subside.

"Fuck!" he muttered and leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths. Each time he inhaled, causing his chest to expand, a surge of pain stung his skin, causing his body to shake a bit. Angel had done his damage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Tom?" Julia tried again.

"Nothing, it's nothing…" he whispered hoarsely. "I just… Angel got a little upset earlier, so to speak."

"What'd he do?" she asked and took his arm, leading him over to a chair. Collins sat down and his muscles somewhat relaxed a bit more now that he had some support. "Tom?"

Instead of telling her, Collins simply lifted his up his shirt just enough so she could see the bandage that covered the center of his chest, and her jaw dropped.

"What'd he do?" she wondered, glancing over at the bed to see Angel sleeping soundly. It had looked like he had been a bit emotional; his face was stained with dried tears and there did look like there were a couple of red spots on the sheets. Blood.

"Got a little excited," her professor smiled up at her, wearily. "He's okay. He's okay. He told me what happened when he was attacked… he scratched me, that's all. No big deal."

"No big deal? It's big enough of deal to draw blood and warrant bandages…"

"Julia, its fine. Anyway, you shouldn't be here… I'm still in the middle of writing the exam, and I ain't gonna make it easy."

Julia sat on the edge of Angel's bed, being careful not to wake or disturb him any way. The stress that both of them had been under in the past couple of weeks must have been intense, she couldn't imagine it.  
Curiously, Julia reached over and gently took Angel's hand in her own. His skin was soft and warm; the life was there that couldn't be denied. She was curious. Collins watched her interact with Angel, thinking about what was different about this girl… there's no way she could fit in with their world; but it was obvious that she wasn't fitting in with her own. The worst thing in the world is being left out of any life with other people who don't accept you on one side, and those who just don't understand you on the other side. Being stuck in the middle was like living in purgatory – not having any place to go, not being accepted… one world that was greater than the other; good and bad no longer having any meaning. What was a girl to do? Collins' intelligence made it easier for him to read her, and their friendship just made it all the more easier to understand why she was doing and saying what she was.

"He doesn't blame you, you know," he commented.

"Hmm?"

"Angel. He doesn't blame you because you convinced me to come back. That's what you're thinking, right?"

"How did you--?"

"The look of regret on your face. You don't exactly hide your feelings well, Julia." He smirked and leaned his head against the wall in which he was sitting against.

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No. Angel's just the same. He doesn't like hiding what he's feeling… he says it feels like he's denying to himself who he is."

"Poetic."

"Nah. Just love. That's who he is… and that's who you are."

"What, you're my shrink now?"

"What's with the attitude?"

"What's it to you?"

Collins rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "Whatever," he finally gave up. "Fuck it, I won't bother…"

"I was joking, Tom."

"Not really in a joking mood, _Julia_."

"Sorry!"

As they bickered, lightheartedly, neither of them noticed Angel starting to wake up again, only a few minutes of finally falling asleep. The first thought that came to mind that he was gonna kill Collins for waking him up, and also whoever he was fighting with…

He felt someone holding his hand. The other hand was warm and soft… delicate even, feminine. So not Collins. So he opened his eyes just a little to see who it was, and almost immediately he recognized that girl who Collins told him had convinced him to return to New York. What was her name? Jamie? Joanne? Julie? Julie… Julia! That's it! Why she was there, holding his hand, was a mystery to Angel.

Releasing a soft moan as he felt himself returning to reality, he caught the attention of his lover and that Julia girl.

"Angel?" Collins stood up and leaned down at his side. Angel's eyes flickered a couple of times and then opened fully – the dark brown eyes that he fell in love with were looking into his own.

"Hmm?"

"You okay, baby? I thought you were sleepin'…"

"I was trying," he whispered back. "Whatever you two are bitchin' about, take it outside… I need my beauty sleep. Fuck, I really need it," he joked a bit and let out a small cough.

"A girl's gotta look her best!"

"Can't argue that," he heard Julia mutter.

"You're back," he directed at her, smiling. "The girl who brought me myCollins back."

**1 HOUR LATER**

He didn't know why… but Julia and Angel were actually hitting it off real well. The two of them were yapping away about various things, mostly about him and so Collins just tuned himself out as to their discussion of him as a professor at MIT. Neither Angel nor Julia really seemed to notice, and Angel was very interested in Collins' life beyond the East Village and New York City for the three months he had been gone. Julia gladly offered up everything she knew about him, and the constant giggling and looks at him didn't make him uncomfortable – it was good to see Angel smiling again after the heaviness of earlier that day. Who was Collins to complain about that, huh?

Now, he sat back reading through his philosophy books again, with the same marker, trying to find out good exam points. It was harder now, not because Julia was in the room with him, but the thought that someone from MIT might find out that he and her had a personal relationship outside the boundaries of just professor and student… that could seriously damage his reputation and even get him fired. Rumors could start. No one knew he was gay, so the obvious ones would be that they were sleeping together or something… it was hard to keep their friendship secret, because he connected with Julia so well. But Collins couldn't make the exam more difficult for her, just to prove that he was trying to be as fair as possible. That, in itself, wouldn't be fair. There worst thing of all, was that he kept being distracted, not by Angel and Julia, but by what Angel had told him, earlier… Sam's name was enough to invoke the awful memories he had hoped to have been rid off, but no such luck was presented to him.

Tapping the marker lightly on the page that was open to him, the words he was reading just became that. Words. No meaning. No life. These were words that once gave him so much interest and passion to change the world around him, but now they just didn't hold him like they used to.  
He decided to take a break and stretched his arms in front of him. Sitting on the bed, Julia was telling Angel of meeting Collins for the first time, and the drag queen seemed interested in knowing the state of mind his then-ex lover had been in just following their break up. Collins watched them, but didn't interrupt…

**_FLASHBACK –2 YEARS EARLIER - MAY 21st, 1989_**

_His lips pressed against his lover's neck softly and tenderly, with passion and fire that he had never felt before. Everything was perfect and quiet, with exception to the soft moans and sounds of pleasure that both young men were feeling… Collins didn't know what was coming over him as he leaned over Samuel. Each kiss sent electricity shooting down his spine, and Sam was loving being seduced by the man whom he loved and would never give up for anything. _

_Collins' tongue grazed the side of Sam's neck, before he maneuvered himself further until his kisses reached Sam's lips and their kisses deepened. It enveloped them both and Sam's arms tightened around Collins' back; his fingers gently digging into the professor's dark skin with the intensity of the passion becoming too much. Sensing the pleasured reaction he was getting, Collins continued to deepen the kiss and felt Sam's tongue pushing further into his mouth. _

_It had been two weeks since they had last seen each other, as Collins was working at MIT and had to travel back at forth between New York and Massachusetts in preparation for exams, and Sam's world existed in New York and both decided it was best that he stay in the city. But it didn't matter… as much as they missed each other, it just made it all the more pleasurable and exciting when they were reunited. The love making was intense and when they were done, they'd just lay in each other's arms for hours… sharing cuddles and kisses, and for once Sam could relinquish himself to the more dominant physical and emotional power that was Collins. Never before had he felt so in love and so comfortable with anyone, and he loved it. He made silent vows to himself that he would never screw this up and always do what he could to make Collins happy. At the time, Collins did the same thing. His desire to protect and love Sam couldn't be broken… but then again, he wasn't actually fully aware of the extra-curricular activities Sam was involved in. The drugs? Gun running? Collins didn't know about any of it, and that's the way Sam intended it to stay as he was intent on keeping his lover by his side. Tom Collins would never approve of such a lifestyle, and wouldn't have anything to do with it…  
Under the sheets of the bed, though, the love could be felt with every kiss and tender caress. Sam's hand slid down Collins' back and stopped at the edge of his boxer shorts, teasingly fingering the elastic._

"_Fucking tease," Collins growled in a low voice, having finally coming up for air after reluctantly breaking the kiss._

"_Baby you have no idea," Sam grinned up at him and grabbed the back of his neck, forcing his head down and their lips crushed together again. Collins body pressed firmly against the smaller man's and with their mouths locked together, Sam managed to slip his hand just under the elastic lining of Collins' box shorts and seductively massage his thigh. _

_Collins responded by placing kisses along his jaw line and moving down his neck to his chest. Licking and nibbling at his lover's nipples… needless to the say, the seductive gesture succeeded in exciting Sam further. The former history teacher bit his lips to stop himself from screaming with pleasure, and inside, Collins was absolutely ecstatic at the response he was getting. He knew just how to work Sam, and loved teaching the younger man new things about seduction and lovemaking. It wasn't necessarily about control as it was about pure, unadulterated love… feeling Sam's excitement against his own skin, he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how to make the younger, less experienced man feel special and like he was the centre of Collins' world, and that's how both men felt about each other. _(If only they knew, right?)_. For Sam, it was the most exciting sex he ever experienced and for Collins, it was the most breathtaking… neither of them had a real, monogamous relationship like this before, and they were very serious about each other. Sam had only recently 'embraced' his homosexuality, while with Collins he just never really wanted to experience just one man and thus was used to very casual relationships at best._

_Collins tangled his fingers in Sam's hair and gently pulled his head backwards to give himself more access to his neck. He nibbled at Sam's ears and was fully aware that his actions would soon send the man into an orgasmic frenzy if he kept up the teasing. But hey, the man knew what he was doing, Sam gave him that much credit…_

"_And you call me the tease?" he breathed. Their chests pressed together and he could feel their hearts beating rhythmically in time._

"_Well we can do this the fast way, or we can do it the right way…" Collins replied._

"_And what way's that?"_

"_My way."_

"_Ahh… ok then… FUCK" Sam yelped when he felt Collins sucking on his ear and then just behind his ear._

"_You're killing me, baby!"_

"_Just you wait…"_

"_I don't think I can…"_

"_Just trust me, will you?"_

"_I trust you… I just don't trust myself with you…"_

"_Ha fucking ha!"_

_Collins moved his kisses further down Sam's chest and to is stomach, and again using his tongue as his seductive weapon of choice, he nibbled at Sam's stomach and used his hands to rub his chest and arms. Sam was at his mercy, in a vulnerably position, and he was loving every minute of it. The pleasure at the physical stimulant was overwhelming him and he thought he was about to strangle Collins if he didn't stop this fucking teasing (he was in a good position to strangle him, at least)._

"_Collins!"_

"_Shh…"_

**_6 MONTHS LATER – NOVEMBER 18th, 1989_**

"_YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" Collins screamed and slammed his fist into a wall. The pain was incredible, but so was the hurt… the betrayal… his anger at himself for being so naïve. Sam jumped and pressed his back the wall in attempts to back away from the rage that he was already feeling from his boyfriend. Tears were streaming down his face, and any tries he made to get Collins to calm down were futile… nothing was going to calm him now. _

"_How could you be so fucking reckless! You're disgusting!" Collins picked up a bag of cocaine and stormed over to the terrified Sam Michaels and shoved it into his hands. It's not like Collins was scared or totally innocent… he had used drugs and been in that crowd at one time, but he had given up. When he found out from a man who came to the apartment earlier that day, and identified himself as Randy, a friend and 'business associate' of Sam, Collins became suspicious. This Randy character was very shady looking… and also, he was high as a kite when he arrived. The betrayal and lies are what hurt most, coming from a man whom Collins loved with his soul and thought loved him in return. It wasn't that Sam was a drug junkie that bothered him… he could live with that, and try get him help… but running a drug ring and was a gun runner? The lies… the deceit. It was unforgivable in his mind; Sam's pleading and begging for forgiveness not withstanding. Roger and Mark warned him. They reasoned with him. Not wanting to believe Randy who told him of the dealings (as he was unaware as to who Collins was), Collins confided in his two best friends and they managed to convince him to see things the way they were seeing them, and convinced him to confront his lover. Sam broke down and confessed everything, and their relationship as he knew it was over. And it was killing him._

_  
"Collins, baby, please!" Sam pleaded again and flung himself into Collins' arms, gripping at his shirt._

"_I… I was gonna tell you, I just thought if you knew the truth… you'd.."_

"_I'd leave you?" _

"Yeah…"

"_Well guess what? YOU'RE RIGHT!" Collins yelled viciously in his face and shoved his betrayer away._

"_You fucking destroyed it, Sam!" he screamed. "You destroyed it! I loved you. And you threw it away to get high!" _

"I had no choice!" Sam replied. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, like a wild deer that'd been caught in the headlights of a car speeding towards it. He was busted… and he knew it. And God willing, he didn't want to lose Collins… he couldn't!

"_Collins, I'm sorry! Please!" he sobbed and moved closer to him, only to have him step away. _

"_Get away… come any closer and I'll lose it. Come any closer and I'll beat the shit out of you."_

_The hateful words came from the one person Sam loved more than anything, and it's when Collins said that, that he knew he had lost him. Sinking to the floor, Sam cried openly and the self-torture, the self-hate… it had already begun. Little could he know that within a month, he really would lose Collins forever… to a vivacious, fun-loving drag queen named Angel Dumott Schunard._

_Collins stared down at him with anger… contempt… pure hatred. How he could lose so much respect for him so quickly, he didn't understand. All he did understand was that it was over… it's not like he could automatically stop loving him, but he knew that it would die soon enough. For there is no love without trust. Or so he thought. _

_Standing in front of Sam, all Collins could do was shake his head and think about how stupid he's been to not have seen it. Sure, he may have suspected drugs on more than one occasion, like I said, that's something he could deal with… but Sam always told him that it was stress at work and that he thought he was coming close to losing his job because of poor performance. Again, Collins didn't query as to why, because he trusted him. Now, all he was wondering was how he could be so stupid as to ignore all the obvious indicators… maybe he'd of found out about this sooner (not that he would've been so quick to believe it). At one stage their relationship had been purely casual, and then it turned serious… it turned into love. Real love._

"_I never would've believed it…" he spoke softer now. "Roger, Maureen, Benny and Mark all tried to tell me before, but I didn't want to hear it. I didn't wanna hear any of it, because I loved you so fucking much, I would've done anything for you. Defended you with my life, and now to think that it would've been worthless anyway, because you were killing yourself and others with this junk!" he glanced at the drugs. "Selling them on the street to kids and anyone with the cash, right?"_

"_Collins, I swear, it's nothing like that!" Sam protested, even though Collins really had nailed it pretty good._

"_Shut the hell up, Sammy…" Collins knelt down in front of him. "I don't wanna hear another word about it… I can't believe another word you say now." In a surprising move, he leaned towards him and placed a gentle kiss on Sam's lips, and pulled back a few minutes later._

"_That's the last time, Sammy… you're out of my life for good. And hopefully, you'll get on with yours… however long that'll be…" he then stood up, and without another look behind him, he walked to the front door of the apartment and picked up his backpack that he had prepared earlier, when waiting for Sam to get home so he could confront him. He slammed the door behind him and left Sam in his own tears. Now, Collins would have to go back to the loft… and face the friends who had tried to warn him. Lets just say, he wasn't looking forward to it…_

_**END FLASHBACK**_

Those times taught Collins a valuable lesson about love and life, and how he couldn't be so naïve to ignore his friends for his own impulses. It was hard… but now, seeing his beautiful Angel smiling again, those lessons in which he had to learn the hard way, suddenly all seemed worth it. It brought him to Angel. And now, he had his second chance with him… he vowed to himself that he wasn't going to blow it.

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Please review. Okay, so there is more of the history between Sam and Collins. In the next chapter, Sam and Collins finally confront one another. Meanwhile, Julian pays a visit to Angel.**


	14. Chapter 14

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 14**

**_SUMMARY_: Sam and Collins confront one another. **

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It was now 8:00pm and Angel and Collins were once again left alone… Collins hadn't left the hospital in close to five days, and it was taking a physical toll on him. His muscles were aching and twitching, and movement was now forced with all the energy he could find in his body. His reaction to Angel's voice, or when a nurse or doctor walked in, or when something happened that would garner his attention, was now very slowed and even non responsive at times. Angel had told him repeatedly that he would be okay and that he should go back to the apartment (which he still had, now under Angel's name), and just rest. But each time, Collins refused and renewed his vow not to leave Angel's side…

Of course, his friends also echoed Angel's reasoning in saying that the stressed college professor had obligations to tend to, and that he needed a substantial rest. Mimi, who had visited earlier, had offered to go back to the apartment with him but there was no convincing him. His mind was made up.

Angel was picking at his fingernails again, anguishing over how his manicure had been totally ruined (it was his futile attempts to cheer Collins up and actually spark some life back into the room). For him, getting the events of that Friday night off his chest actually did do him really well as now he felt like he didn't have to carry the pain and burden alone – that he didn't have to be strong for himself and everyone else all the time, and to let Collins and his friends carry him through these trying times. All his life, Angel preached that everyone should love themselves and others for who they are – and you know what? Nothing's changed. If anything, those beliefs were only strengthened further, and that was a good thing that could not be denied.  
Looking over at Collins, Angel saw that he was deeply immersed in something that was causing him distress, or at least obvious concern.

"You okay, honey?"

His words rippled through the air and shredded through the silence only momentarily, and got lost into oblivion when his lover didn't respond. Collins was sitting on the other bed, so Angel couldn't actually reach out to touch him without hurting himself further. Studying the beautiful features of his boyfriend further, there was no cause to panic… Collins was definitely a fun loving guy, but he had his serious moments, sometimes for no reason other than his own self-induced worries. He wasn't scared or pissed off, or anything… but Angel could see that something was occupying his mind. _Other than me,_ he thought in true Angel fashion.

"Collins?"

Still no response, so the next step for him was to look around to find something that could gain his attention. Usually, Angel would use his own gorgeous self to either seduce or just plain tease Collins into giving him the attention he wanted, but since he obviously couldn't do that, he would just have to utilize something else to get the job done. Spotting an empty plastic cup on the side table, Angel slowly reached out and using his fingers, made grabbing gestures until the tips of his fingers curled around the top and he got a grip on it. His mouth curled into a small, mischievous smile and he stared at Collins, who still hadn't noticed his movement.  
Angel lightly threw the cup in Collins direction, and it ended up just tapping his thigh and then bouncing straight off onto the floor. He looked up. Finally.

"Hmm?"

"Looking a little lost there, baby," Angel giggled, seeing the confusion in Collins' eyes.

"What?"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"What?" he repeated.

"Is that all you say?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Whatever's on your mind… you can tell me."

Collins smiled and hopped off the bed and sat down on the bed, and placed his finger under Angel's chin, feeling the warmth and life in his skin. "Nothing that concerns you. Nothing's wrong."

"You _so_ can't lie good."

"Uh-huh."

Angel, now within arms reach of his lover, reached up and softly caressed his check – his thumb moving across the skin just under Collins' eye, and touched the tender area at the edge of his left eye. Angel's touch was to be savored at every chance, for Collins, because his skin really did feel like silk… so smooth and soft… the perfect texture. Every time the two of them were left alone, there was a surge of electricity that filled the room and consumed them, drawing them to each other like magnets. It was unexplainable energy and passion that heated their blood, and something that couldn't be defined in the context of everyday existence. The constant ticking of the clock on the wall, and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor seemed to both indicate the passage of time that they both really lost track of whenever their eyes connected… the ticking and the beeping kept them in reality, no matter how much they wanted to let go of it. The continuum of time is very much distorted when it comes to love and wanting to hold onto something or someone for eternity… suddenly everything else loses all meaning, or at least its priority is no long withstanding and becomes subordinate to a sudden urge or desire to hold someone.

Collins let his hand run cross the bandages that covered Angel's chest… with every time he breathed in and out, it was obvious that Angel was in a lot of discomfort, but he seemed to be managing it well. Collins wished that he could absorb some of that physical and emotional trauma, and Angel shouldn't have to deal with it all on his own. Yes, being told of what happened on that Friday night did allow Angel to offload some of the pressure, but it wasn't a solution, not yet. Sam needed to be thrown in jail… or buried six feet under the cold, unforgiving earth… either way, Collins would rather he not be lurking around the hospital grounds. Now, he was scared to leave Angel's side… to leave him vulnerable just in case a certain someone decided to drop by. Why did life have to be so fucking complicated for them? Because they're gay? They have AIDS? They don't, nor want to, conform to the ideologies that society – the state and church – have created? Was God punishing them for being so sinful that even He couldn't bear to tolerate them being happy? Maybe that was going too far… but they were the sorts of questions that ran through Collins mind; the full impact of Angel's injuries sinking in, finally, after almost a week. And you know what? It was terrifying… someone as good as Angel could suffer just as greatly as the rest of them, and that thought didn't hold much hope out for them.

"What you thinking?" Angel whispered.

"Nothing important…"

"Come on!" he pushed further. "Tell me. I promise I won't bite… maybe scratch a little. My nails are ruined."

The lightness of his words brought a smile to his lover's face and Collins laughed weakly at the truly pathetic attempt to cheer him up. Fingering the edge of the bandage without much thought, Collins leaned down further and propped himself up on his elbows, one on either side of Angel's slender body.

"Just thinking, is all…"

"About?"

Collins sighed. "You. Me. All of us," he confessed. "How life's not fair. The usual bullshit."

"Aww baby…" Angel cooed and pouted his lips, cupping Collins' face in his hands and using his thumbs to gently stroke his skin. "Isn't it supposed to be _me_ that say's that?"

"Somehow, no matter what, I don't think you have the capacity to hate life."

"Neither do you."

"No… but I just keep thinking… what if I had lost you? I'm not ready to let you go yet."

Angel's fingers teased his skin, and sent tiny shivers tingling up through his veins and down his spine… a talent Angel knew very well how to use and play it to his advantage, but sometimes he did it without knowing he was doing it. "Tom, you're not going to lose me. I promise."

"Yeah, but," he felt his throat close from the impending outburst of emotion. "What… what about the virus? It won't be too long before—"

"Shut up for a minute," Angel interrupted with a firm tone. "Can we _please_ stop thinking about the future? Honey, learn to take things as they come… that's what I do… it helps me live! Besides, we both have the disease, it could take either one of us first… and anyway," he linked his fingers with Collins', and squeezed. Feeling the gesture returned to him, he used his other hand to hold the back of Collins' neck. "I have you. You're all I need and I don't want anything else."

Hearing those reassuring, confident, yet soft words was all it took for Collins to give in to the overwhelming urge that was beginning to suffocate him, and he pressed his lips with force against Angel's. The intensity of the kiss deepened by mutual desire, and his tongue slid into Angel's mouth and he could taste him, and the passion was returned with equal force. It was like tasting heaven in his mouth, and Collins didn't want to pull away… with all appearances of being delicate to the contrary, Angel was very much like an energizer bunny (jacked up on ecstasy) when it came to these 'intimate' moments between them, which kinda surprised Collins a bit, seeing the morphine drip attached to the IV bag. But hey! He wasn't gonna complain. For him, it was like hunger for more – a natural desire and need to feel more of Angel against him… a hunger to taste him; breathe him; exist in every part of his soul. The desire and physical need for the love was consuming them, and the need to consummate that love had been denied for so long. But as they continued, Collins heard a soft, passionate moan that was breathed down his own throat, from Angel, and that was an obvious sign of enjoyment. A few seconds later though, Angel's muscles began to tense and both of them got so lost in each other that they didn't realize how Angel was pulling him closer to him. Then, he began to tense up even more and began to groan… he started to struggle and a resistance built up to Collins as the older man coaxed his lips open further. Feeling the tensing of Angel's muscles, Collins immediately broke the kiss and studied his face. Tears had come up in Angel's eyes and he was biting his lip – he was in pain.

"Angel?" his voice was tainted with building panic. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Letting out a shallow gasp and wincing, a few moments later the pain apparently subsided and his face relaxed, and he looked up at Collins.

"We should stop… or we'll lose control…"

"What happened?"

All Angel had to do was rub his chest in a silent gesture of what had caused him the distress, and Collins understood. Angel could feel the pain every time his lungs expanded and contracted against his ribcage, and the drugs were generally numbing the physical discomfort, but sometimes, when sudden pressure or something happens that causes a physical reaction occurs, the pain can supersede any effects of the drug.

"How you feeling now?"

Angel didn't have to answer, as Collins could see that his breathing was very rigid and shallow – every time he breathed in, causing his lungs to expand, the pressure on the ribs became greater and thus, obviously, more painful. But, still…

"I'm okay," he whispered and managed a small, reassuring, yet somewhat fake smile. "I'm okay."

"You need sleep."

"I need you."

"You got me."

Angel hesitated. "You won't leave?"

"You know I won't."

Collins moved just slightly so that his lips were teasingly inches away from Angel's, the desire creating what felt like tiny electrical impulses that stimulated every urge and every sexual sense in his body. But he remained defiant to his own pulsating urges, and Angel's.

"Sleep…" he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Angel's eyes were visibly drooping, and his grip on Collins' hand was starting to weaken just a little. Everything was going to be okay for them, he knew it, for he no longer had the burden of carrying the pain all by himself. Yes, Collins' return to New York probably was the reason he got attacked, and why all of this had gone down in the first place, but he could not fault his lover for being the first one of them to actually step up and try to bring to the entire group some measure of resolve. Collins had stood there and taken every little bit of abuse he hurled at him, and each spiteful, hate-filled word was probably taken to heart, but still Collins did not leave. He had been the one to go out, look, and find Angel lying in that alleyway. He cradled him in his arms, trying to calm him and kept telling him that he loved him… that he was sorry. Angel was optimistic by nature, and despite the trauma he had suffered through, his love didn't die. His spirit almost did, but it didn't… it survived. Now wasn't a time for him to dwell in himself, but to be thankful that he still had love in his life – and that they had the second chance they both desperately wanted.

"I love you," he whispered and then yawned, finally allowing his body to carry out its natural function and let his eyes close.

"I love you, too, Ang."

Collins remained silent, and stayed at Angel's side as he drifted off to sleep. It gave him time to think about everything that was going on. More memories of him and Samuel were still freely floating around his mind, but he did his best to try and dispel them by distracting himself again with his work. Sitting down on the cold chair next to the bed, he opened the book to the appropriate page and stared blankly at the words. Whenever he looked at the peacefully sleeping lover in the bed, good memories came to him… when they first met; whenever they kissed; whenever they made love; whenever they were just alone together. Such memories often came with a price to pay or at least the appreciation of them did, anyway… Collins paid the ultimate price, but losing Angel. Memories often become more vivid and appreciated when one knows that they will not be able to experience those same moments ever again. For some people, it's those memories in which they are often left with.

A couple hours after Angel had closed his eyes for the final time that evening Collins rested his head in his hands and rubbed his face, massaging the stress and fatigue from the pores of his skin. He looked at the clock. 10:56PM.

"Shit… why is it so difficult?" his thoughts echoed aloud, reflecting on the trouble he was having in actually resting.

"Where's Mimi or Maureen when you need them?" if his body was forcing him to stay awake, then at least some good entertainment could be afforded to him… and those two girls were about as crazy as you could get. His back and neck were aching from being in the overly uncomfortable positions of sitting on that cold plastic chair for hours on end, and the sterility of the room bored him and gave a dark, empty feeling – though it, in fact, nursed back a person's life. The temptation to go and find something to eat or just move around outside the small room was growing by the second, and he looked at Angel who was still sleeping soundly. Collins had promised Angel that he wouldn't leave him, but… well, I mean he wouldn't _really_ be leaving him, he'd just be going to have a bit of a stretch and get some food. But to leave Angel vulnerable for Samuel to sneak it was also a prominent possibility and a risk Collins wasn't prepared to take. Samuel was really a creature of the night, so he'd be most active (and probably most fucked up on drugs) around this time.  
Collins rubbed his temples and yawned – he wanted to sleep, he felt sleepy, but somehow his body remained active and too alert to relax. He stood up and stretched his arms out to get the circulation running through his veins and muscles once more, and walked around the side of Angel's bed to the door, and opened it. He turned around to make sure Angel was still sleeping, before another moment's hesitation about whether or not he should leave. However, before he could change his mind, Collins stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Fuck," he breathed and clasped his hands behind his neck and stretched. He walked down the hallway to the elevator, passing the nurses' station as he went, where he noticed Emily was standing behind a desk, looking very busy and kinda stressed.

"Hey," he softly spoke and leaned against the desk. Emily looked up and smiled wearily; fatigue having taken over a long time ago… she was working a double shift and was wondering why she had gotten into the public health service to begin with.

"Hi," she replied and dropped her pen, grateful that something was able to divert her attention even just for a little while.

"You still here, huh?"

"Ha," Collins chuckled and smiled warmly. "I doubt Angel would let me leave either way… but I wanted to stay anyway."

"How is he?"

"Sleeping."

"About time."

"No fuckin kidding…"

Neither of them really knew what to say – even talking required effort than neither of them had.

"You should go home or something, Collins," Emily advised him. She and he had gotten to know each other over the past few days and they were friendly enough to know each other on a first name basis. Unlike most other doctors and nurses, Emily actually seemed to really care about Angel – and all the other patients she tended to, of course – but she really did care. "You've been here all week."

"I can't. I promised Angel I'd stay, and he wants me here."

"I know. But take it from me; you're not doing him or yourself any good by hanging around here… you're half dead, yourself."

Collins sighed and shook his head, dejectedly. "It's not that simple."

Emily smiled sympathetically and leaned back in her chair. "It never is. Where you heading?"

"Get something to eat. Want anything?"

A look of absolute gratitude swept across her face and she nodded, reaching for her purse. "Coffee would be great. I'd love you forever."

Seeing her pull some money out of her purse, Collins shook his head and waved for her to stop. "No, hey, I got this. Put your cash away."

"But I—"

"It's cool, I got this… how'd you take it?"

"Black. Two sugars." Emily paused. "Thanks so much."

"No problem… gives me something to do."

Fifteen minutes later, he was walking back towards the nurse's station with two cups of coffee, and a sandwich that would satisfy the hunger that was growling in his stomach. Hospital food is well known for not being that great, but at this point Collins would take anything that's edible. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that would take him to the floor Angel was on, and leaned against the back of the small compartment as the doors closed and he felt himself moving upwards. The soft humming of the motorized network that pulled the elevator up, combined with the gentle piano elevator music did little to distract him from his thoughts that were plaguing him. Little did he realize just how close those fears of his were… and would be confronted with in just a few minutes.

A few seconds later the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to the dimly lit hospital corridor and stepped out. It was like an invisible wave of anesthesia and drugs – it was nauseating! But, nevertheless, Collins once again braved the sickening smell; the sickening taste of the chemicals that were trying to not just prevent death and preserve life, but improve the quality of the lives that were lingering between mortality and eternity.

Collins turned into the next corridor and saw Emily's work desk not too far ahead, so he walked towards her and the scent of the warm coffee was tantalizing and refreshing, and he couldn't wait to get it running down his throat. As he approached her, Emily heard footsteps approaching and looked up.

"Oh my God I love you!" she gushed and reached up for her coffee. Collins gave it to her and placed his own cup and the sandwich on the desk. "Thank you so much!"

"We all need a boost," Collins muttered and sipped his coffee. "How long you got left on your shift?"

"You won't believe it," Emily retorted with a touch of anger, which startled him. "I just got a call from my 'superior'. She says I may be needed to work a third straight shift!"

"You're kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm in a joking mood?"

"Can they do that?"

"I wouldn't have thought so, but apparently they can." Emily was extremely bitter and the warm liquid that ran down her throat was only soothing her calms just a little. She was glad Collins was there to keep her company, as it did get lonely when pulling the skeleton shift at the hospital – eerily quiet with the aura of death surrounding her wasn't her ideal situation to be in.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Who knows," Emily admitted. "I'm so fucking tired right now…"

Then, both heard a small clicking sound, which actually was the PA system being switched on, and suddenly a voice was heard echoing through the speakers. Emily winced at the sudden elevation of the noise, which wasn't that loud, but given the silence that had encompassed them both for the past few hours, it was annoying.

"_Will Thomas Collins please report to reception. I repeat, will Thomas Collins please report to reception?"_ the unfamiliar voice paged the professor, whose jaw dropped in complete shock.

"What the fuck?" he muttered and glanced at Emily who also had the same puzzled expression on her face.

**SEVERAL MINUTES LATER**

The elevator doors opened again and a confused and even slightly dazed Tom Collins stepped off onto the ground level floor of the hospital and looked around. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows over various objects and only further enhanced the depressing image of hospitals that were already imprinted into his mind. Turning left, the reception wasn't too far away but Collins made sure to take his time. Whatever the reason for being called there, he didn't want it to take too long – he just wanted to get back to being with Angel.

"I'm Tom Collins," he spoke to the man behind the desk upon his arrival to the reception. The man looked up and eyed the African-American man standing before him, and simply pointed in the direction of the sliding doors in which one exited the hospital facilities.

"A young man asked you to be paged, he asked me to inform you that he is waiting outside."

"Did you get a name?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

He sighed. "Never mind. Forget it."

Collins left the desk and walked across the waiting room, and the doors slid open as he approached. As soon as he walked outside, the cool night air slammed against his body like he was walking into a brick wall, but instead of recoiling from it, Collins welcomed it as it was cleansing of the stench of the hospital from his body. New York City lived up to its hype, as it was a city that never slept… never shut down. So to look up to the sky in wanting to see the stars would be a waste of time, because the lights of the city were so obviously overpowering that it stripped away any magic the night sky might be willing to share. It was even at the point where late at night, it was brighter outside than it was inside.

Collins stopped after walked about fifteen feet from the main building, and he looked around for whoever it was who called him down. Why wasn't he being more cautious, given the circumstances under which he was at the hospital? You may wonder. He was beyond the point of fear now, not courageous, but just not as cautious as he would've been if he was with Angel or any of his friends.

"Collins?"

His heart started beating rapidly against his chest so hard that it felt like his own ribs were about to crack from the pressure. Slowly, he turned around and his breath caught in his chest at who he saw standing there in front of him. Samuel Michaels was leaning against the wall with a somewhat concerned and even intimidated look on his face. It took a few moments for it to fully register with Collins just who was standing there. Frozen where he was, time itself was freezing around him too – the shock factor was off the scales at just how willing Sam was to confront him. The only movement Collins could muster was the rapid blinking as if trying to cleanse his eyes to make sure he was seeing who he was seeing, for real.

Feeling started to come back to him, and without one word, Collins lunged at Sam and before he could react, Collins' fist connected with his ex-lovers face, just under his left eye. Sam's body hit the wall with extreme force and he yelled out in pain, but Collins was unrelenting in his assault – everything he felt towards this man was now being translated into punishment of a physical nature. With tears freely falling from his eyes now, Collins laid into him and delivered blow after blow to Sam's stomach and face.

"YOU GOD DAMN MOTHERFUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled and punched Sam hard in the stomach, sending the man sliding against the wall, and blood was coming from his nose now. He was crying and trying to shield himself as much as possible from the blows by covering his face with his arms and drawing his knees up to his chest; curling up into a ball. Collins gritted his teeth – his muscles were tense and his dominant physical stature over Sam was being put to good use now.

"I'll kill you, you—"

"Collins!" Sam was coughing and spluttering now, and felt a hot, sticky, metallic tasting substance in the back of his throat. Blood. For the first time in three months now, Collins was on top of Sam again – but this time, not in a good way as his weight crashed down on to the substantially lighter man. Almost straddling him as Sam had only recently done to Angel a few days earlier, they were mostly out of view from the main street and entrance to the hospital so Collins wasn't really worried about his 'time' with Samuel being interrupted.

"Stop! God dammit!"

Pausing from beating the crap out of him for a split second, Collins grabbed him around his throat and began to squeeze – would he be able to stop himself from going all the way? But the look on his face was one that would kill a thousand times over, if looks could kill – the rage in his eyes could never match the rage in his heart, and if there was ever a more perfect time to kill Sam – this was it. He leaned down. Sam's eyes starting bulging and he was gagging for air, his face turning red. He was struggling under Collins' weight, but could not free himself of the stronger man's grasp.

"You almost killed him… you raped him… when you did, you raped and killed me… why shouldn't I return the favour?"

For obvious reasons, Sam couldn't speak, but he just gasped and made really bad choking sounds as Collins' fingers tightened around him further and air was becoming restricted to his lungs. But Collins still didn't release him and fought every urge in him to kill him right there and then. After a few more moments, just when Sam became convinced he was really gonna die, Collins finally removed his fingers from around his neck – he had been squeezing so much that he actually left finger imprints in the sides of Sam's neck. He then stood up and grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt and pushed him against the wall… very familiar to what happened with Sam and Angel, the same type of scene had played out. Outwardly, Collins was in tears… but his heart was crying too – crying tears that were like poison to his body and as such all of his strength went into not killing Sam, and being able to remain in control of the situation. The nerve that Sam had in turning up here and calling him out, literally, was something he couldn't understand.  
Collins pressed his own body weight against Sam's and held his hand over the junkie's mouth and leaned so close that their noses were almost touching – he could see the panic and terror in his eyes and thought that this must have been what Angel went through only days before. That thought was definitely enough for him to keep Sam in that position, where he could easily break his neck or do something to put the scum out of his misery. Collins then used his other, free, hand and tangled his fingers in Sam's hair and yanked back hard, and heard a muffled scream in response.

"Give me one reason, Sam. One reason not to kill you!"

Sam had, now, many cuts and bruises on his faces and was bleeding quite profusely from his nose and his mouth. Shallow coughs resulted in Sam buckling under the weight of his ex, and Collins' hand and his shirt became quickly covered in the blood. Both of their tears were meeting and dissolving in the blood, a symbolic and yet still very dangerous situation. Sam's eyes searched the through darkness and torment of Collins' soul and didn't see any mercy… any hope… not even much anger. All he saw was pure pain and heartache.

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ in the next chapter, the confrontation between Sam and Collins continues and Julian reappears in the next chapter.**

**Please review. I'd appreciate it.**


	15. Chapter 15

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 15**

**_SUMMARY:_ Okay, so Collins is giving Sam a pretty good beat down, but things aren't getting any better… for Julian has snuck into the hospital and is about to pay a visit to our sleeping Angel. Warning for this chapter, more Angel torture. I know I'm a sucker and I shouldn't keep going like this, but hey… it keeps things interesting… poor Angel's been through enough, but I'm not done with him yet.**

**NOTE: I know Collins character and that he's not a violent person, but when someone threatens the life of someone you love, I doubt that anyone would be acting as they normally would. Thanks for pointing out the character flaw though, and I will make sure not to go overboard with Collins reaction to Sam. But there is a point to this and it leads up to this chapter…**

**_SPECIAL THANKS:_ Goes to my really, really good friend Daina (AKA Phoenix!) You have been such a great friend and a loyal reviewer, and thank you so much for the input of creative ideas you've helped me with in this chapter. I appreciate it more than you know Big hugs LATINO HEAT LIVES ON, GIRL! Keep it burning!**

**More thanks goes to everyone else who have reviewed, I really appreciate the kind words!**

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Pain... no matter what Collins did to him, there's no way Sam could no of the pain he was feeling, and it was hurting so badly. Blood had now severely distorted the handsome features of the junkie, and his breathing was shallow – he was terrified of Collins. Never before had he seen so much force… he wasn't one to kill, but if Collins was pushed any further, who knows what he'd do. They were in a fairly secluded area, so the possibility of being interrupted was minimal, as it was approaching midnight. Collins leaned further against Sam and grabbed his wrist and started to twist it… Sam, in response, began to struggle and scream – but his screams were still hindered by the professor's hand still covering his mouth, and just when Collins got to the point where he could easily snap Sam's wrist, he stopped twisting.

"You almost destroyed me, Sammy," he breathed. "I loved you once upon a time, and you lied to me. And now… you try punish me by trying to kill Angel?" his voice cracked with the emotion taking a hold of him. He was almost blinded by his tears and his throat was beginning to hurt from all the pressure of it constricting so much because of such emotion. He removed his hand from around Sam's mouth, wanting an answer as to why he was here, but he already suspected the junkie's motives, so… "I won't let you near him, you hear me?"

The fear and terror in Sam's eyes only masked what was really going on inside his dark, twisted mind, which, at that moment, was pretty calm… unmolested by drugs for once. That's because he was hiding something, but obviously he wasn't going to reveal it. There was evil there, and Collins could see it… brooding silently and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He pushed himself off Sam, who slid to the ground against the wall again, crying and whimpering at the pain, and held his wrist to his chest. This wasn't part of the plan at all! Collins backed away from him in disgust, wondering why his body wasn't following through with his ultimate desires of putting Sam's head through the brick wall. But he just couldn't do it… seeing him withering in pain was enough to satisfy his desires for revenge while he tried to get answers out of him.

"Just tell me why!" he yelled, torment dripping from every word. "Why the fuck did you go after Angel! Why didn't you come after me!" his heart was being torn to shreds all over again, and the pain was becoming too unbearable. These were questions that he wanted answered for so long were being blurted out, although he wasn't sure where to go from there. Sam glared up at his, his bottom lip quivering and tears glistening under the light… the blood although was reflected in the light as it clung to his skin, with droplets falling off him and mixing with the dirt. Collins had split his lip and broken his nose… he also had given him a hard beating to his abdomen, which explains why he was coughing up blood. With one arm held against his chest and the other used to prop his body up to keep him from collapsing entirely, Sam's eyes followed Collins pacing up and down in front of him. Even Sam could see that his ex was restraining himself from going after him again, and desperation had replaced the anger. But still, Sam didn't answer.  
Collins stormed over to him and grabbed his shirt again, almost shaking him.

"What'd I do, Sam!" he continued. "Why him! WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM! WHY DOES HE HAVE TO DIE FOR YOU TO PROVE YOUR FUCKING POINT?"

His need to beat the shit out of Sammy subsided, and now all he wanted was answers… the two of them had always been different, though such differences never appeared so obvious to him as they did now. Sam just stared up at him, with total disbelief at how violent Collins' reaction to him was – it was not Collins' nature to be violent, as his personality was that of warmth and calmness… the voice of reason and calm when everyone else seemed to be falling apart. So for him to react as badly as he did, it was just so… not Collins. He was shivering but every time he moved, the pain reminded him that he was in a very precarious situation. Collins' expression was one of confusion and hurt; betrayal and anger… mixed emotions that only complicated the situation further and what the next step to take was, he didn't know. Instead, he leaned against a light post and held onto it as if his life depended on it – he wanted distance between him and Sam now.

"Angel didn't deserve it…" his voice was so soft that Sam could barely make out what he was saying. "Why Angel?"

Coughing some more and wiping some of the blood off his lip, Sam nursed his wounds though became dizzy. If anything, Collins gave him a few cuts and bruises, a couple of broken ribs, and maybe a mild concussion… nothing very serious. With Collins' uncommonly violent outburst having calmed down, Sam struggled to pull himself up, using the wall as his main means as support.

"I…" he started, but stopped when a rush of pain went through his chest. "I… we need to talk…"

"About what? You never gave Angel that option."

"I was angry!" Sam cried and bit his lip. "I was just angry! I'm sorry, I—"

"Is that all you can say?" Collins snapped. " 'I'm sorry'? You almost killed him, and all you can say is sorry? You should be saying it to him… not that I'd let you anywhere near him, but it's pointless."

"What do you want from me?" Sam huffed and folded his arms across his chest to form some sort of protection for his now vulnerable form. "I'm trying to make this right—"

"You?" Collins scoffed, still leaning casually against the pole. "Making things right? Sam, you've had so long to make things right… and this is not something you can fix!" Strangely, he was very much calmer than he had been only minutes before… maybe that's because this is the first time he's really had a chance to confront Sam and get answers.

"You know, when I first saw you all I wanted to do was kill you. Do to you what you did to my Angel – you almost destroyed my life and then you saw fit to try and destroy Angel's, too?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"Oh no?" Collins let go of the pole and slowly walked over to him, with Sam still leaning against the wall for all the support he could get. But Collins didn't touch him, but just folded his arms over his chest. "What was it like, Sam? You figured you'd get rid of Angel and I'd come back to you?"

"Something like that…" Sam muttered and finally got up the courage to look Collins in his life. The darkness had gone, and he could see there was still a spark of life in there. "I was fucking high, man…"

"So that's your excuse?" Collins spat. "You were high?"

"I loved you!" Sam choked up. "I loved you and you left me! Just like you did with Angel! Doesn't that say something?" that comment was sure to provoke Collins further, but he didn't react. He just stared.

"You're right. I fucked up. Who knows, maybe you have rubbed off on me."

"Collins," Sam pleaded. "Let me try making it right! Take me to Angel, I'll make it right, I promise!"

Collins felt like bursting out laughing at that idea, and he smirked bitterly. "You gotta be kidding right?" there was no chance he would ever consider allowing Sam near Angel, and he was stunned that Sam would even ask such a ridiculous question. But instead of hitting him or reacting violently, Collins just looked down at him with total disgust and stepped back from him. He didn't trust himself to _not_ lose control at any given moment. Sam cringed at feeling his whole body beginning to throb uncontrollably and his head felt like it was being beaten repeatedly with a brick or some sort of dense object, making it very difficult for him to focus. And he felt like he was going to throw up, but he got himself under control. Collins, though, had absolutely no sympathy for the man and, inside, was satisfied in knowing that Sam was suffering – as totally uncharacteristic and cruel it may seem for him – he just had no love lost for him. The mental images of Angel lying in that alleyway, and being hooked up to all those machines were enough to quash any rising sympathy he could feel developing in him, as he did (once upon a time) really love Sam, and Sam was the first man he truly loved and gave his heart to. But now his heart would forever be with Angel, and Collins had moved on a long time ago…

"I fucked things up," Sam cried. "I'm sorry!"

"Sorry!" Collins' voice raised again, the intensity and force giving Sam a jolt and he cowered just a little more. Honestly, he didn't expect his ex to go off like he had (as stupid as it seems) because Collins was never the violent person, except when he found out about the drugs and deception… so really, it shouldn't have been too hard to figure out that once pushed over the edge, Collins could become aggressive when he had to. Only in extreme cases. But then again, this is Sam, and he's well… self-delusional, to say the least (maybe thanks to all the chemical friends he has flowing through his body). "After what you done to Angel… the blood… the depression… the fear… all you can say is 'sorry'?" he lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. The sudden changes in his tone were worrying, because it meant that he was experience multiple and polar opposite feelings and emotions that could lead one to become…emotionally unbalanced, to put it lightly.

"You really don't get it, do ya Sammy?" Collins licked his lips to give moisture to them which had dried from panic, anger, fear, and pain.

Blood trickled down and dripped off Sam's chin and hit the pavement just at his feet. Droplets of blood were staining the pavement red, in much the same fashion that Sam had threatened to do to Angel only days before… this time, though, he was on the other side and he was feeling what it must have been like for Angel, only he wasn't thinking about that at the time. Collins was in a position to do to him what he had done to Angel, and yes those fears were in his mind – Collins wasn't the same man he had fallen in love with. He was different. Probably for the better. No, actually, definitely for the better – and Angel's influence on him had not gone by unnoticed.

"So what now?" Sam queried and moved himself, slowly, into a position where he could properly face the other man. "What you gonna do?"

Collins had the opportunity to basically fuck him up, but instead he just chose not to. He shoved his blood covered hands into his pockets and took a couple more steps further. "Walk away." Was his simple reply. "You do the same. I wanna kill you Sam… I wanna hate you… I want to do to you what you did to my Angel… but I can't."

"Wh… why not?" Sam stammered.

"Because," Collins paused. "You're right. We had something once. And it was good – hell, it was great. But it's gone now, Sam. So just walk away… walk." He turned his back to Sam and slowly started walking away from his past, finally letting it go. He could've stayed and demanded more answers to the many more questions he still had… or he could've continued beating Sam into the same state Angel had been in at his worse. But… all he wanted to do; all he was capable of doing, was to walk away from everything that had tied him and subsequently Angel to the dangerous past that almost destroyed him. Spiritually, each step taken further was another one liberating him (of course, he didn't really feel it)… each one became easier. He was walking away for himself…

Sam started hyperventilating – it wasn't supposed to happen this way! No! Collins wasn't supposed to beat up on him! And Collins wasn't supposed to be walking away like this… how could he let this go now! It was too soon…

Trying with all his willpower to push through the agony his body was feeling, Sam desperately tried to think of what to do next… it was too soon, he couldn't let him leave now! Sam loved Collins, though knew he couldn't get him back… but there would be nothing that would stop him from loving him. Not even Angel. And to see his love walking away now, back towards the hospital, it would not only ruin the plan… but it was just too unbearable for Sam to watch it. Watch Collins go back to him. His heart was tearing into shreds and hurt more than any of the injuries he had sustained, and there was only one last thing he could do…

"Tom!" he desperately begged him to stop. "Tom, wait! God dammit! WAIT! Please!"

Collins, against all his better knowledge and his instincts, stopped in his tracks but hesitated a few seconds before turning around again.

"What! There's nothing more to say!"

Sam struggled into a semi-controlled standing position and took a few more seconds to regain his breath. His energy was lost and the sweat and blood mixed together with tears that proved it…

"I know," he answered, exhaustedly and slowly approached him, taking small yet significant steps. Collins remained frozen in his spot though was fully aware of the shortening distance between them, but he didn't flinch. Even when Sam came to within inches of him, Collins found himself staying perfectly calm – the once beautiful features of the young man whom he had once been in love with, were now so distorted that he could barely recognize him.

Their eyes were locked and connected…

"What, Sam?" Collins whispered – he sounded like he was giving up. His past. Them. All the anger he felt for what happened to Angel… none of it mattered anymore. No day but today, remember? And right now, all Collins could focus on was rebuilding his life with Angel and his friends. He was letting everything go.  
Sam's impulses were no less running wild than usual and so he did the first thing that came to mind – the first and only thing he wanted to do. He grabbed the back of Collins' neck and before he could resist, Sam pulled him into a soft yet firm kiss…

Stunned, Collins felt himself being lightly pushed against the wall and so it had begun… Sam's lips massaged his own. Finally finding the strength and pulling himself out of the shock, Collins pressed his hands against Sam's chest and harshly pushed him away. Feeling Collins' fingers dig into his cracked ribs, Sam let out a bloodcurdling scream and fell backwards, almost falling over. _Fuck_… he thought. _This wasn't supposed to happen…_

**MEANWHILE…**

His footsteps barely left a sound as he walked briskly down the corridor. He had seen Sam and Tom Collins outside the hospital and had taken it as his cue to quietly sneak past, and luckily enough Collins had been distracted enough not to notice him go by. But arriving on the floor which was the ICU ward, everything was quieter and darker – a dark peacefulness, a somberness. Sticking closely to the wall, Julian did not catch the attention of the attending nurse who looked busy enough, her head was down and she didn't look up, so he assumed she didn't hear him approach or move past. How Sam managed to find the floor and hospital room number that Angel was in was beyond Julian's comprehension but that wasn't his concern right now. Business was being disrupted by Sam's weird obsession and passion for Collins, again to which Julian didn't understand (nor wanted to), but alas he was going to help his friend… and save their 'business' ventures in the process. Julian was generally the more 'violently inclined' out of them two, but when pushed beyond his limits, Sam could become equally, if not more dangerous.  
He checked the names on each door as he passed… Julian was like many people, and hated hospitals with a passion. But soon enough he found what he was looking for and on the nameplate in the middle of the door in front of him were the words, printed in block letters – ANGEL SCHUNARD. With a deceptively cunning smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Julian opened the door a peered inside. The heart monitor was beeping away – that was the only sound that could be heard. And lying there covered in bandages with multiple tubes running into and out of his body, was the sleeping Angel. Immediately Julian, wasting no time, stepped into the room and closed the door… what to do next…

He walked, in a very cavalier manner, over to Angel's bed and stood at the end of it, his hands holding onto the metal railing at the end of it and pouted his lips, cocking his head to the side. His maliciousness was only further heated by the fact that after all that Sam had done to him; Angel had actually survived and was probably going to recover. So Sam went through all that for nothing? Not if Julian had anything to do with it.

He reached into his pocket, not taking his eyes off Angel, and it only took half a second for him to feel the small metallic object he was looking for and slid his fingers around it, firming his grip on it.

Balancing the pocket knife between his two index fingers, Julian pondered his next move. Never had these kinds of situations been so personal for him, but this was just a whole new level of anger. This wasn't really about Angel at all as it was about Collins… to Julian, Collins was the one who fucked Samuel up and so _he's_ the one who deserved the punishment as dictated by the ways of the street… violence.

Julian stepped around the corner of the bed and approached Angel's side and decided on what to do. The blade of the knife was exposed and shining under the soft light – all the attention that was in the room was drawn to that silvery, sharp blade… death, or impending death… violence… is usually a major attention drawer anyway. Julian then reached over and pulled the blankets down just enough to expose Angel's left arm and held the knife to it. The subtle terror of the entire scene was not lost on him, as it was one of Julian's many dangerous gifts… life on the street had taught him many things, including the value of sheer intimidation and perceived danger, rather than just going around and killing people. On the street, you didn't necessarily have to earn respect, but scaring it out of people was a more common practice… it didn't matter to Julian whether people feared him, respected him, or both – as long as they know who he is and what he can do.

"_What you gonna do to him?_" Sam had asked, tentatively, earlier that evening. It had been completely Julian's idea to go to the hospital, and Sam had been very reluctant as he had an idea of how Collins would react… and also, by the fact that they could get caught was another very concerning reason. But Sam just thought that it wasn't worth it anymore, and Julian had to convince him that they had to show Collins exactly what he has done…

"_Collins messed with the wrong guy, Sammy,_" _Julian insisted._

"_It's not like I didn't fuck things up either, you know…_"

"_I'm talking about me, idiot!_"_ Julian snapped and picked up the pocket knife off the table and slipped it into his pocket. _"_What he's done to you… what he's done to us… Randy is threatening to take his business elsewhere; we can't afford that at the moment!_"

"_So you're gonna kill Angel!_"

"_Just gonna finish what you started! And why are you objecting now? Last week you shoved a knife into his gut!_"

"_And he knows I did it! I'd have to be an idiot to go after him now, and besides! It's not worth it! I don't need you to fix my problems, Julian! It's none of your damn business!_"

"_It is when our business starts to suffer_…" _Julian zipped up his backpack and turned around to face his doubting friend. He grabbed Sam by his shoulders and gently shook him. _"_What's with you, man! I thought you'd wanna see Angel gone! Get a fucking grip!_"

_Sam stared. _"_Not at this cost, man… maybe its better just to leave them alone, you know? Collins has chosen who he wants..._"

Finally, though, after a little more prodding and convincing, Sam had agreed to the terms set down by Julian – he didn't have to go and find Angel (Julian volunteered to do that) – all he had to do was find Collins and keep him distracted. Since it was late at night, there wouldn't be many people, and since Angel was still in the ICU ward, there were no restrictions on visitor times. Now, Julian was on the verge on completing what Sam didn't, and it wasn't hard for him… Angel was just lying there, sleeping – he couldn't move even if he wanted to.

Julian held the knife closer to Angel's skin and lightly made contact… he started gently drawing the knife along Angel's arm, up from his wrist to his elbow and then gently poked his skin, trying to get his attention. And it worked. Angel's eyes started to flutter and the drag queen felt something tickling his arm… it was something with a pointed end and it was just plain irritating. _Fuck, Collins…_ were the first words that ran through his mind and he finally pulled his eyelids apart and squinted to see what his lover was doing. Obviously Collins must be bored… but as soon as he visually came into focus and allowed a few moments for the weariness to subside, Angel's heart practically stopped right there and then. Standing over him was someone he didn't recognize, but had a very dangerous glint in his eyes…  
Angel started to quiver as he succumbed to the rising panic – he glanced around the room for any signs of Collins only to find that he and the stranger were alone. Whoever he was, he was just glaring very menacingly at him, and Angel gripped his blankets closer to him.

"Who—who the hell are you?" he whispered. He broke eye contact for a split second to look down at what the man was doing to his arm, and there it was. A glistening silver pocket knife was being pressed against his arm and teasing his skin – Angel started to open his mouth to scream, but like lightning, the man clasped his hand over his mouth and inhibited any noise he could make. Angel began to physically struggle, however almost let out a shriek of pain from his already aggravated injuries – this stress now wasn't going to be any better for him. Julian pressed his weight more onto Angel's petite body to keep him still, and in response Angel was struggling to breathe (as both his nose and mouth were restricted of air). Julian narrowed his eyes and then, using his free hand, brought the knife up and pressed it against Angel's throat, in very much the same manner Sam had done.

"I'm sorry," Julian apologized, half-heartedly, watching Angel's rising desperation to get air into his lungs. "But business is business… and you, my friend, are a heavy liability. Now, I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth. One scream. One call for help. And I'll finish off what my good buddy Sam couldn't get done. That's all you need know."

At the mere mention of Sam's name, Angel knew this was retribution… that this person must also be someone of Collins' past. And Collins would definitely have some explaining to do… about this, and why he wasn't in the room when he promised he'd stay. He furiously nodded his head in agreement, and Julian then released him. Angel gasped and despite the pain resonating through his chest from the deep relaxation and contraction of the muscles of his ribs, the air tasted like heaven to him.

"Sam… sent you!" he breathed heavily, drinking the air. He pressed his hand to his chest in a futile attempt to control his breathing and the subsequent pain that was emitting from the cracked ribs.

Still holding the knife at Angel's throat, Julian shrugged nonchalantly and smirked.

"I guess you could say that… but Sam… he's tied up in this emotional shit right now… what, with all that's been happening with you and _Collins_," he said Collins' name with an added touch of venom. "Like I said… this is purely business. Sam's been distracted recently, and my driving force behind my… 'business'… is threatening to go elsewhere, and I can't afford that right now. I doubt you understand…"

"Where's Collins?" Angel demanded, softly. Julian raised an eyebrow.

"I hardly think you're in a position to be demanding anything from me right now, Angel…"

The restrictions of his injuries and being hooked up to so many machines gave Angel no option but to stay quiet and not struggle. Silently, he was praying for Collins or _someone_ to return… but Julian shrugged.

"But since you look so concerned for your lover… he's been _distracted_."

"By Sam?"

"By his past. Think of it as liberation for him… he can confront his past…"

Angel wiped tears from his eyes. The look in this person's eyes, and the knife, and the whole given situation suggested that this might be a predicament that he may not live through.

"Don't do this…" he begged. "Don't…"

"I really got no choice here, Angel. This is isn't something I want to do," he lied. "But it's strictly business and I can't – and _Sam_ can't – afford to have you and Collins screwing things up… not now. Not ever."

"We didn't do anything!" Angel sobbed. "We didn't—"

"Well, okay I stand corrected. _You_ didn't necessarily do anything, but Collins has a lot to answer for… and let's face it, you are a liability." He pressed the knife further into Angel's neck and caused his muscles to contract and stiffen up. "Nothing personal from me… I just have to protect my money…" he paused and then added, "And my best friend."

"You're pathetic!" a sudden rush of aggression surged through Angel's veins, and in response was met by Julian again clamping his hand over his mouth and then viciously slapping Angel with the back of his hand. The muffled scream of pain let him know that he had gotten his dominant point across very well and he removed his hand to the sounds of Angel's whimpers. He then reached into his backpack and removed a small cloth-type material. Thick material. Julian then grabbed Angel by his throat and began to squeeze. Choking, Angel was coughing and spluttering but Julian didn't care at this point. He raised the material to Angel's mouth.

"Open." He instructed, and lightly tapped Angel's jaw, encouraging him to open his mouth. Angel hesitated and tried to resist, but of course he couldn't and still needed to breathe, so when his lips parted, Julian immediately shoved the cloth into his mouth. After all his years on the street, Julian knew how to keep things quite… he could do whatever he wanted to Angel and still be as quite as a mouse about it. He definitely had his way.  
Julian then grabbed Angel's hand and then cut it, deeply, with his knife and Angel reacted as anyone would – but no one could hear his screams… no one… Tears rolled down his cheeks and his eyes and face became flustered and red. His muscles were so stiff and the pain ripped through the rest of his body, resonating in his hand. Angel cried as best he could, and Julian removed the cloth so he could breathe. Within seconds of the cut being made, blood had transformed the surrounding white sheets into ones of a deep crimson red and the intensity of the pain for Angel was so unbearable that he felt like he was about to pass out.

"That was lesson number one," Julian said, darkly. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be lucky if there's any blood left in your veins!"

And yes, Julian was being careful as he was fully aware that Angel has AIDS, and keeping that in the back of his mind, he let him take anther couple of breaths before forcing the cloth back into his mouth and gripped the knife one more time. This time, he held it to Angel's _other_ hand, and it sliced open as the blade pierced his dark skin. The bloodcurdling scream that was restricted by the material was even enough to make Julian cringe… as much as the blood was soaking into the bed, Angel's tears were making his eyes hurt and his vision blur – Julian's face became just a blob of pure evil. Even worse that Sam in the sense that Julian was lingering… torturing… his technique was subtle. He wanted to inflict pain in the slowest way possible, whereas Sam just wanted to deliver as much of it as possible.

Angel could barely swallow the pain in his throat without swallowing and choking on the cloth too. Julian was good at this kind of thing… every time he did something, he would remove the cloth so that Angel could breathe – so he wouldn't lose consciousness and thus the ability to feel the horrific inflictions… he was keeping Angel awake – _alive_ – longer. He was gonna feel every bit of this. And again, Julian removed the cloth and Angel's cries were still soft, yet more audible… and the pain he was feeling was nothing compared to the hell his mind was being put through. The corners of Julian's mouth tugged into a small smile and knew that it was working…

His eyes locking with Angel's, he saw the young street drummer struggling so much, it almost made him feel an ounce of sympathy. Almost. He then sat on the bed, with blood now drenched the blankets on both sides of Angel… Julian then touched the blood with his index finger and then smeared some on Angel's lips.

"Taste it," he whispered. "Is Collins worth this? Is he worth you tasting your own blood like this? Man… you two must _really_ love each other…"

Angel didn't say anything in response, but small sobs were all the sounds that escaped him and the full reality of what was happening was beginning to set it. Julian gave a light, yet humiliating, taunting slap to his victim's face. Angel closed his eyes, not wanting to see anymore, and this did not pass by Julian's attention unnoticed, and the physically larger man shoved the knife under his chin, where Angel could feel it pressing further and further into his skin.

"Open your eyes, boy… girl… whatever you are."

Angel did as he was told and opened his eyes. Like a wild animal caught in a trap, he knew there was no way out yet he continued to struggle… and why shouldn't he? This stranger was obviously intent on dragging this out and make him feel every single bit of this. The worst thing of all, was that Julian wanted Angel to _see _all of this… one of the most lethal; powerful aspects of torture. His tormentor leaned closer to him and whispered…

"You're gonna feel this for the rest of your life… however long I decide that may be."

Close to the exact same words Sam had told him with the exact same tone almost a week earlier. Why was this all so repetitive? Why did Angel have to go through the same thing over and over again? What was he being punished for?

"Don't…" Angel whimpered… the very deep cuts on his hands left him unable to defend himself further (strategy-wise, it was very good thinking by Julian). He was left totally at the mercy of Julian. "Please…"

His pleas fell on deaf ears and Julian paid no heed to him. He wouldn't get caught, not if everything went according to what he and Sam planned. Instead, as Angel continued to plead for some sort of mercy, he shut him up with the cloth again… this was it. No more time for games, as the nurse would surely be making her rounds shortly. Julian would have to speed this up and his arm moved so fast that Angel barely had time to register what he was gonna do, and the knife then cut through the bandages of his damaged shoulder and dug into his skin and the broken tissue and screaming as loud as he could, Angel almost passed out from the pain – he started shaking and frantically trying to pull away. All there was now was pain, from his pre-existing injuries and these newly inflicted ones. Everything was becoming cloudy and confusing, with the sweat, blood and tears once again only showing a tiny bit of the terror and hurt Angel was feeling and experiencing. Julian had sliced his shoulder open and the amount of blood was even worse than in the alleyway – that's because he knew exactly where he could inflict the most damage. But then, something unexpected happened. The heart monitors beeping sound grew more rapid, indicating that Angel's heart rate and blood pressure were sky rocketing and the lack of oxygen into his system made things all the more worse... Julian looked around, panicking. A buzzer went off that would indicate to the attending personnel that something wasn't right, and he hadn't had the time to do what he was supposed to.

"FUCK!" he growled and tried to get a grip on himself. He knelt down next to Angel, not before noticing drops of blood dripping from the bed and onto the floor… everything was turning red for Angel, and that (in Julian's opinion) was how it should be.

"I guess time has cut our little rendezvous short, Angel," his whispered and disturbing placed a kiss on his forehead.

"Well, I guess we can leave a little surprise for your Collins, before I leave," and then removing the cloth one last time, Julian risked what could be his own freedom in this next move and quickly brought the knife down to Angel's through… and pierced the skin, dragging the knife along Angel's neck…

Angel couldn't scream. All he could do, with his eyes wide and in a copious amount of pain, gagged and struggled for breathing… he squeezed his eyes shut and all that was going though his mind was the pain. The agony. Not again… one of the last things he heard before consciousness consumed him was the room door slamming open. He opened his eyes, only to see Emily rush to his side, apparently screaming his name, but he couldn't hear her… and Julian was already gone. Angel's eyes closed and blackness ensued…

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ In the next chapter, Collins arrives back at Angel's room only to find him to be gone, and Emily informs him of what happened. Everything in this story is there for a purpose, and I know the direction this story is going. I'm sorry for more Angel & Collins torture… I promise I won't go overboard, you don't have to worry. **

**Please review. **


	16. Chapter 16

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 16**

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SUMMARY: Collins arrives back at Angel's room to see his lover gone and a puddle of blood on the floor. Have your tissues ready. A tender moment between Mimi and Collins.

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Collins leaned against the back of the elevator, thinking about what just happened with Sam… how dare that fucking asshole think he has the right to – well, let's just say he wasn't entirely please. He had pushed the junkie off him and was surprised at the fact that he didn't launch himself at him again, and had showed some amazingly good self restraint. Collins just walked away. He wanted to get back to Angel's side and stew in his own anger for a while and forget about what happened… overall, Collins was proud of himself for actually walking away from Sam - in both the physical and spiritual sense. It became easier the further he walked, and now hopefully he'd be back at Angel's side before he woke up. If only he knew… the one thing Collins was sure about was that none of this would've happened if he had 1) not cheated on Angel (obviously!) and 2) if he had been honest with him and his friends to begin with. But now Angel was on the road to recovery, things were starting to look up – they had to. Meanwhile, after Collins walked away for what was, in his mind, the last time, Sam was left in near hysterics and in bloody pain to tend to his own wounds, or wait for a Good Samaritan to come along and offer some assistance. For him, as much as it felt like Collins was letting go, he could not… his whole existence and subsequent future was forever tied to the man he loved – who was the man who had also delivered into his body the deadly virus that would eventually lead to his death. So many conflicting emotions – hate, fear, love, obsession, loneliness… none of which Collins had to face anymore (or at least until he got back to Angel's hospital room).

The doors opened and Collins walked into the main corridor and turned and walked towards Angel's room. He could hear in the distance, a bit of a commotion going on around the corner, so he picked up his pace. What the hell was going on? For some instinctive reason, he started to panic and fear the worst and his quickened pace then turned into a jog. Collins felt his heart start beating so fast that it was like it was humming instead of beating and beads of sweat seeped through his pores. Why he had the gut feeling that something was wrong with his Angel, he didn't know…

Upon turning the corner, Collins' worst fears were confirmed and he came to a sudden stop… his eyes widened and his heart caught in his chest. The light just above the door, the one that signals that there is an emergency or some sort of problem, was flashing Angel's room number, and there were two nurses and two cops crowding around the door, and looked very concerned (is the most delicate way to put it). Collins stood there; confused for what seemed a lifetime, but was only really a few seconds… his whole world collapsed right there and then and his heart slammed against his ribcage, almost bursting out of his chest. He felt his lungs and throat constrict, like not wanting to breathe anymore, because he already knew his life was over…

"Oh God…" he managed to choke out and blinked away tears that blurred his eyes... and his soul. Forcing his feet to move forward, Collins felt his body move with them and panic now replaced the concern. Each step he took, he got faster and faster, and there he stood Emily who was almost in hysterics, talking with another nurse. The other nurse looked past Emily and saw a tall, African-American male with a look of desperation on his face, stumbling towards them and she pointed it out to Emily, who subsequently turned around just as Collins stopped in front of her.

"What happened!" he yelled and didn't wait for an answer – instead, he pushed past both of them and ran over to the doorway where two police officers were blocking the entrance way. "WHAT HAPPENED? Where is he!"

Both officers each grabbed him by an arm and tried to restrain him. "Sir, calm down!"  
One of them ordered. Again, Collins wouldn't listen and tears were flowing freely down his face as he built himself into a state of absolute hysteria. Struggling against the weight of the two men in front of him, Collins pushed forward though was held back by the officers. However, he managed to push in enough to snap the crime scene tape that had been placed across the door and he looked in.

"God no…" he sobbed and his panicky eyes roamed the room only to find that Angel's bed was no longer there. "ANGEL!" he screamed, feeling the energy draining from him and his legs buckled on the pressure of his own weight. "WHERE'S ANGEL!" but his understandably distraught emotional reaction was only further heightened and horrified when he lowered his gaze to the floor, as his eyes had been drawn to the coloured stain that sharply stained the dull grey floor… a deep red, thick substance had soaked into the carpet and there was a lot of it.

"No…" his bottom lip quivered and he broke down, falling to the ground sobbing while the two officers still held him by the arms and all four of them (the two nurses and the two officers) just looked down at him with all sympathy written on their faces, none of them really knowing what to do or say to comfort the broken young man. The older officer looked at his partner and nodded in a gesture to help this guy over to a chair or something to support him. He felt himself being pulled up gently and the two cops talking quietly with each other, before feeling a cold hard surface beneath him. Not having any strength other than to sob openly in hands and weakly struggle to get back into the room, Collins slumped down in the chair and the guilt of leaving Angel alone immediately hit him. They both knew this was a possibility…

Officer Timmons, the older of the two cops, placed a sympathetic hand on Collins' shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry, sir…" he knelt down next to him. His partner, Officer McMahon, stood on the other side of the grief-stricken man with the same look on his face.

"Sir, what's your name?" Officer Timmons inquired, making sure to keep his voice gentle and non-confrontational or harsh.

"Where's Angel?" Collins ignored his question, and spoke softly, straining with grief and a sudden loss of energy.

"Sir, if you could just tell me who you are and—"

"Don't 'sir' me!" Collins interrupted, forcefully. "Where is he!"

"Collins," Emily rushed to his side after finally finding her voice and the strength to move, and knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in her own and looked up at him with big, soft eyes. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, I should've heard something, I—"

"Where is he!" Collins repeated, just wanting an answer. "JUST TELL ME!" he looked in Emily's eyes and then whispered… "Please, Emily! Where is he?"

"Angel…" Emily choked up. "I didn't hear a thing! I should've but… he was attacked… someone sneaked in and, and… cut him up pretty bad. Including his throat."  
Collins lost it and started shaking and rocking back and forth uncontrollably, his nerves were shot to pieces and nothing made sense anymore… who could've done such a thing? Crying into his hands, Collins repeatedly whispered Angel's name.

"Is he…?"

"No!" Emily replied quickly. "Collins, he's alive… he's in surgery now!"

He raised his head to look at her in her eyes, his own eyes having turned steely and cold, and hard.

"Where were you?" he growled. "Where were you when it happened!"

"I'm sorry!" It was Emily's turn to cry. "I should've I know! Whoever it was… he was gone by the time I got there! He must've climbed over the balcony outside Angel's room, I—"

"Ma'am," Officer McMahon directed at Emily. "Ma'am, we must ask you to stand aside…"

Emily obeyed and reluctantly let go of Collins and stood up. Her fellow nurse gently pulled her aside and both watched the two officers try to calm the man down.

"Sir," McMahon tried to reach through to Collins. "Are you a relative of Mr. Schunard?"

Collins didn't initially reply – reality had fallen away and now a nightmare had taken over him, one that was real but he didn't want to believe it. He wanted to keep it distant and subjected to the workings of his subconscious, but it wasn't really working… after seeing the vast amount of blood that had seeped into the carpet on the floor of Angel's room, his heart had shattered and his mind filled with dread and self-loathing for leaving him.

"Sir?" the other officer, Timmons, also tried. "Who are you? What's your name?"

Collins glared up at them and wasn't really concerned about responding to any questions they may have… and he didn't care about what they would think about him or Angel upon learning of their relationship; he didn't care about a police investigation. Angel was in surgery almost to the point of death again, and even if he did survive only God knows what this will do to him… not even Angel could regain his emotional strength after this. And Collins once again let him down (or so Collins thought).

"Tom…" he found his voice and gave the two cops his answer. "Collins."

McMahon wrote the name down on his notepad, while Timmons continued to question him.

"Are you Mr. Schunard's brother? Friend?"

Collins directed his eyes to stare at the floor as if something was drawing his attention there like a magnet. Following the NYPD's obvious lack of interest the first time Angel was attacked, by digging into their relationship and subsequent lifestyle would only make things worse for them all. But he didn't care anymore – not that he did to begin with, but now wasn't the time to play games and worry about their judgment.

"No…" he replied, softer than a mouse. "He's my lover… my soul…"

McMahon and Timmons were both slightly taken aback by that revelation and glanced at each other, as if silently asking each other what to do next. Collins could see the hesitation from both of them, but it didn't both him… he was used to it, as was Angel. But no matter what, he'd make sure Angel's dignity remained in tact, since he wasn't here to defend himself.

"I don't expect anything from you," Collins continued, harshly. "So let me give you a head start. There's my ex-boyfriend, Samuel Michaels, who I left withering in pain outside this hospital, in which I can only assume he called me out to distract me while someone snuck into Angel's room to kill him. Last week Sam attacked and raped Angel to get back at me; he stabbed him and left him to rot in an alleyway. Sam never got over the fact that I broke up with him two years ago, and let me tell you something," he stood up and came face-to-face with a stunned Officer McMahon.

"Angel… he has AIDS. He's a drag queen street drummer. And he's the love of my life, and if he dies…and you don't do anything to find the son of a bitch who did it," his voice cracked with high emotion. "Trust me, I will raise hell. Angel deserves as much justice as any of those rich fuckers living on the Upper East Side and so far, nothings been done about him being attacked and raped last week despite your fellow cops being told who did it. Now, tell me you're not gonna do anything…"

Neither of the cops knew how to respond to what he had said, and neither could deny that what he was saying is false, because generally enough it wasn't rare when those types of people, such as Angel, got thrown aside while they paid more attention to the tax payers and those whom society deems actually 'matter'.

"Mr. Collins, I–"

"I can see it," Collins interrupted, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I can see the judgment, and I don't give a fuck about what you think… all I want is for you to do your God damn jobs and find the son of a bitch who tried to hurt Angel!"

The flourishing anger in him was burning a fire within him that couldn't be extinguished without confirmation that Angel would be okay, though he wouldn't be surprised if his lover didn't forgive him for leaving his side, even when he specifically asked him not to.

Officer Timmons reached into his jacket's inside pocket and pulled out a piece of pen and a pad to get more details, just as Collins turned away and brushed past him and made it to the still-open doorway of the empty hospital room and leaned against the wall for support and seeing the blood – _Angel's_ blood – slowly spreading out across the floor and the crimson colour of the pooled liquid of life was reflected by the light that came from the bedside lamp.

Collins began to shake uncontrollably and folded his arms around himself as if trying to keep himself together, in one piece. Silent tears screamed louder than his sobbing, and he gazed around the dim lighting, reflecting as best as he could on what just happened. If Angel died, there would be no reason for him to live anymore… the guilt after what happened last week, on top of what happened three months ago, and now this (after finally being able to let go of Sam and his past) – it was all too much now. And how could he face Angel even if he _did_ survive and recover?

Standing there and suddenly feeling a cold tingling sensation run down his spine, Collins stood up and moved further into room, and even cringed slightly as if he could really hear Angel's screams as the knife slid into his delicate skin. His heart was pulverized with grief that seemed to seep tears of grief, replacing the rivers of blood that sustained his life with just pure, undiluted pain. That's all he felt inside now… harshness. Officer McMahon quickly moved forward and put his hand on Collins' shoulder to pull him back and out of the room.

"Sir, you can't go in there! It's a crime scene!"

Collins shook him off and didn't turn around, continuing to move forward like he didn't even hear him. Both officers, by right, should've stopped him from going in there and contaminating the crime scene, but there was something different about this situation than any others. This 'Collins' guy seemed to know exactly what was going on… and they already had lifted prints and hair and fibers, so that wasn't a problem. But there was something about this situation that called for their restraint and their sympathy… neither man moved, and all four of them watched as Collins knelt down next to the pool of blood.

Sitting on his knees, he reached down and let his index and middle fingers of his left hand come into contact with the recently spilt blood that was taking its time in soaking into the carpet. The liquid was cool and wet to the touch… no life was in it anymore, and Collins shivered at the sudden change in temperature. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek and slipped off his chin, and into the blood. Curling his hand into a fist and squeezing, silently getting out the sudden rush of anger that almost caused him to fall backwards. Collins stood up and turned around, just as he was met by Officer Timmons, who glared at him.

"Sir, I insist you leave… out of the crime area, we gotta avoid—"

"Sorry," Collins whispered and quickly shuffled past him and left the room. As soon as he stepped back into the main corridor, he looked down at his fingers and the more visibly brighter red colour of the blood still had his attention, and it was then that the emotion consumed him, and he fell to the floor, sobbing. As other crime scene techs moved in and around him, Collins didn't notice any of it and Emily rushed to his side – everything was blurred beyond comprehension now.

**THE NEXT MORNING – 9:00AM**

All six of them sat outside of Angel's new ICU room religiously not moving. Of course, Benny had declined the invitation, citing extremely important work to be done, and that was no surprise… no one wanted him around anyway. Cops had come back and forth every now and then to see if they could get anymore information out of any of them, but none were that forthcoming. After all, why trust the so-called 'law enforcement' when they didn't do anything to help Angel as he was lying in the middle of an alleyway, dying… the criminal justice system would barely flinch to accommodate their needs, and so why bother now?

Apparently Angel was still in surgery – Roger was sitting with Joanne, and they were either side of Maureen who was sobbing hysterically and occasionally crying out Angel's name in agony. Mark, who for once didn't have his camera with him, was talking with a doctor, trying to push for more information even though the doctor had no more at that moment. And Collins was sitting on the floor, against the opposite wall, with his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, and he wasn't talking to anyone, listening, or even acknowledging anyone or his surroundings. Mimi moved away from where she was standing, just next to Roger, and cautiously approached the silent and very cold-looking friend, and she could see he was internally torturing himself with grief and guilt. Not saying anything, she sat down next to him and stretched her legs out in front of herself, and thought about how to talk to him. She was pretty sure that he knew she was there; he wasn't stupid… but right now, Mimi wanted to make sure he wouldn't snap and do something stupid. Her naïve innocence would prove to come in handy in this situation…

"Hey Collins…" she said, softly, really not knowing what else to say – the situation was on a knife's edge, it could go either way depending on whether or not Angel survived through the surgery. Collins' eyes were dark and unreadable, and he didn't respond to her or flinch when she reached over and touched his arm. "How you doin'?"

She held onto his arm for comfort; her warm skin trembling with anticipation at his next move, if he would make one. For Mimi, Collins had always been strength to her, a sense of comfort and to now been in a position where the roles are reversed; it was a whole new thing to her. Only recently were they all beginning to move past the happenings of the past few months and began to make sense of things, and Angel was the one who was getting victimized over and over again. Mimi was so close to Angel that it was hard to imagine life without him, and so she couldn't even begin to wonder the hurt Collins must be feeling. How do you comfort someone when the torture they have been inflicted with, has been done with their own hand? Someone who inflicting self-torture on the belief that it's the only way to relieve themselves of the guilt. It was on overwhelming situation for her to be in, but all she could do was sit there and be her self.

Resting her head on his shoulder and giving his arm an affectionate squeeze, Mimi felt the coldness of the wall pressing against her back, sending shivers down her spine. Still, Collins maintained its fixed position, focused on the floor. He was too lost in his own misery and grief to stay connected with reality, and he was fine with that. He really didn't care anymore.

Roger shifted his focus for a moment away from Maureen, whose dramatic personality was really shining through now mixed with genuine grief (Maureen was not the kind of person to hide her feelings), to see where his girl was. Spotting Mimi sitting with Collins, Roger could see the vibe of vulnerable innocence trying to reach into a heart that had already solidified into coldness and broken from everything that was real and true. If anyone could get through to Collins, it would be Mimi.

Meanwhile, Joanne was embracing her distraught girlfriend who was sobbing into her neck.

"Honey bear," Joanne cooed. "He'll be okay… you know Angel, he won't go easily…"

"It's not fair!" Maureen cried, loudly enough to make more than one person wince from the sheer volume of her voice. "Angel can't die! Not after everything! It's not supposed to happen like this! It's not supposed to end like this!"

"Maureen, shut the hell up!" Roger hissed, nodding his head in the direction of Collins who was sitting in very close range of hearing everything they were saying. "We don't all need to go deaf!"

"Get over yourself, Roger!" Maureen snapped.

"Whatever."

"Fuck you…"

"What!"

"You heard me!"

"Both of you shut up," Mark walked over to them and sat down next to Joanne. "Fighting's not gonna help…"

"What'd the doctor say?" Joanne was the first to change the subject in attempts to cool the tension between Roger and Maureen, who were both too stubborn for their own good. Mark shrugged sadly and had a defeated look on his face.

"Nothing yet. Last he heard, it was fifty/fifty or something… he said Angel has lost a lot of blood."

Back with Collins and Mimi, the words that managed to filter through his ears and register any meaning within him, were Mark's words of '… Angel has lost a lot of blood…' and he closed his eyes, but in doing so it didn't prevent a tear from being released. A harsh reality that sooner rather than later he'd have to accept especially if Angel died…

Mimi hugged him closer and hoped he would open up to her, if no one else… The love between Collins and Angel was something none of them could really understand, as the two of them were at the point where they truly needed each other. Collins stared intently at the cold floor, not wanting to pity of Mimi or any of them – that in itself was a stupid thought, because they all loved Angel too. He could still feel the tenderness that Angel had kiss him with, and instinctively his fingers raised and touched his own lips, the first real conscious movement he had shown for many hours and it Mimi noticed it.

"Collins?" she tried again and reached over and grabbed his wrist gently, pulling his hand away from his face. Finally, Collins responded to her and turned his head; his expression remained very sad, yet distant. "Sweetie, he'll be okay…"

"Sure…" Collins whispered, now drained of any energy. "And I promised I wouldn't leave him."

"You were lured out, it wasn't your fault!" Mimi protested.

"Doesn't matter," Collins scoffed. "I sat on his bed… looked in his eyes… and promised him that I wouldn't leave. Nothing would've broken me from his side…"

"So…" Mimi paused. "What did?"

"I don't know," he confessed and choked back mores tears. "I don't know… when I got out there… Sam was there… and I couldn't resist. My body was pounding away at him, and it was like I was completely detached from him and everything! It was like I wasn't me anymore, Mims!"

She rubbed his arm and pressed her lips into a small line. Collins attacking anyone? Yes, that was completely uncharacteristic for him, but it was a natural human reaction. She only wished that she could've been there to cheer him on as Sam was getting beaten to a bloody pulp. Not saying anything, she let him continue…

"And… for everything it was worth, I completely forgot about being at Angel's bedside!" Collins explained everything as best he could but with everything that was going on around him, and the much screwed up nature of his mind at that point, nothing he could say would put things into perspective. He gripped Mimi's hand as if they were super glued together and the hysteria within him couldn't be concealed for much longer as his body began to shake even more; his nerves were way beyond rattled – they were shot straight to hell now. Mimi squeezed his hand back and remained silent for a few more moments… Collins was on the verge of a complete meltdown and she didn't want to be the one responsible for sending him over the edge. The police officers had disappeared, probably back to the crime scene which was almost contaminated thanks to Collins, but all six of them were now without disturbance from anyone outside their group. Mimi looked over at the other four and saw Mark and Joanne speaking softly while Joanne had her arm around Maureen, who was still sobbing. Roger (who, let's face it, is _not_ the most sensitive guy on the planet), embraced her to let her know he was there, and Maureen seemed to respond to his masculine presence that could maybe provide a little more consolation and even protection than her girlfriend. She let go of Joanne and moved to Roger and let herself be brought into his arms… there was the comfort of a man that not even Joanne could provide, and Roger held her close and let her cry all she needed. The warmth of his body provided Maureen with some comfort… her closeness to Angel and the nature of their relationship was being put to the test, as were all of them. Maureen knew she had to try and remain strong for Collins, but she couldn't even stay strong for herself at that point… but it wasn't like Collins would've noticed anyway; he was still locked in his own world… his own void.

"Why the hell is God fucking with us? With Angel?" Maureen carelessly let her anger and passion flow without thought. Now was not the time to be pondering and questioning God's motives for this second attack on the one person they thought to be a true angel of His kingdom. Roger, slightly uncomfortable of being the one who had to come up with some sort of comforting and satisfying answer to her emotional outpour, just stroked her hair and rubbed her arm affectionately.

"I dunno," he replied, truthfully. "Can't tell you, Maureen…"

"It's like he's being punished for being himself!"

"Actually, it'd be more like he's being punished because Collins fucked up…" Roger pointed out, secretly raging at whoever was causing his friends – his _family_ – so much pain… and he had a pretty good idea of who was behind it. It wasn't rocket science.

"Why does it have to keep happening to us?" she cried and sat up, wiping her eyes, and looked at Roger.

"It's not. It's happening to Collins and Angel…"

"It's happening to our friends, Rog!" she retorted. "That means its happening to the rest of us too! We gotta do something!"

"Like what, Maureen?" Roger's voice hinted an exasperated feeling that covered the true hurt that was attacking him. "What can we do _now_? I wanna kill Sam as much as you do."

"How do you know it's Sam?"

"You gotta be kidding, right? Do the math!"

"All I know is that our friend was lying in that bed, trying to get better, and instead is barely hanging onto life _again_!" it was no secret that Maureen still held a lot of resentment towards Collins for ditching Angel and all of them a few months ago, since she and him went way back and the betrayal even tore through her self-indulgent personality.

"Angel shouldn't be paying for Collins' mistakes!" she really didn't care if he heard her (even though he didn't – Collins really wasn't paying attention). I know what you must be thinking… Maureen's loyalties and even priorities are seriously misplaced as she's known Collins longer than Angel, and shouldn't really be taking sides – but that's Maureen. When she gets an idea in her head, or someone does something so stupid that… well, let's just say she's not exactly the most patient or tolerant person. When Collins left them all, she saw the devastating effect it had on Angel, who took it as the ultimate sign of betrayal and rejection, and it pained her and every one of them to see him slip so far away from who he really was. Angel became a different person entirely, and she couldn't get used to that.

"Maureen, shut up. It isn't Collins' fault… anymore…" Roger really didn't want to lose his temper – he could understand what Maureen was saying, though. But Collins didn't need to hear her laying into him and blaming him, when Roger was quite sure that the young anarchist professor was doing enough of the blaming on himself to last a long time.

"Whatever," she muttered and relaxed against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "It's not gonna get any better, is it?"

"Not anytime soon…"

Collins leaned his head back until he felt the cold wall behind him. Looking up at the fluorescent lighting, he couldn't help but wonder if Angel would die hating him- he would, if the positions were reversed. But then again, Angel would never have cheated on him, abandoned him and then left him for a second time after reconciling… so Collins could find no fault in him should Angel either die with hate in his heart (which is not bloody likely, given Angel isn't a hateful person), or live and shut him out of his life forever. Mimi still hadn't moved from her position next to him, and just watched him carefully, wondering what must be going on inside his head. Still with their fingers interlocked and the closeness they were sitting to each other, Mimi could feel Collins' bodily reaction to the circumstances… he was shaking uncontrollably, and beads of sweat rolled down his face… his eyes were bloodshot, but dark and unreadable.

"Collins?" Mimi spoke up, her voice soft and tender… no judgment or blame… just comfort. "Angel's coming back to us… he can't go now… not after everything."

"And if he does?" Collins replied, tearfully. Turning his head to face her, she could see the tears on his face and the ones sparkling in his eyes under the light of the hospital. Pure, raw emotion – anger and pain… it wasn't a 'stabbing-through-the-heart' type of feeling for him… it was a feeling of his heart being slashed and pulverized into something so damaged that it could no longer possibly retain any life, spiritually, or any of the emotional capacities that one's heart may encounter. Collins gritted his teeth and his face scrunched up into obvious pain as the emotional wave swept through every inch of his body. Mimi, concerned, put her arms around him and gave a warm hug… despite her naivety; she could understand the pain of love more than most people. They lived in a world where they didn't have much – they didn't have anything of value… except love and friendship… except each other.

"I'm going nowhere," she whispered and kissed his cheek lovingly. That's what Collins needed at this point… love. Not accusations and blame (he was giving himself enough of that). In response, he wrapped his arms around her as well and pulled her closer in the first real display of affection and emotion from him to someone else other than Angel, in a while. With their heads resting against each other, Mimi's heart tugged with each deep sob that Collins breathed out, and she bit her lip. Collins' ragged breathing didn't escape her and his breath had turned cold and harsh as it brushed past her cheek, so that she cold almost taste the pain and get a fuller understanding of what he was going through.

"I love him, Mims," he whispered, not wanting to let her go. "He can't die… he can't leave… especially while hating me."

"He doesn't hate you!" she whispered back. "Angel adores you… he loves you. When you were together, before everything happened, when Angel and I were doing our thing, you shoulda heard him talking about you! The way he talked about you… it's not something that someone can easily let go of, you know?"

"That was before everything happened… everything's changed now," Collins replied despondently.

"Yeah," Mimi admitted and brushed her hair out of her face. "I know… it's so bad right now, but it'll get better! Angel can't _not_ love you, Collins… I don't think it's possible!"

"He's only human, you know…"

"No," she disagreed. "He's Angel. And he loves you. Don't do this to yourself."

Their eyes met.

"Mimi," Collins whispered her name in a desperate kind of way. "I can't… if he… I won't…"

"Stop," she interrupted, not wanting to hear it. "Love's there, Collins. Love heals. It's the most powerful thing in the world, and it'll always be healed… always. Angel brought life to us and now it's our turn to bring it to him, and he wants us to, I know. Love is all you need, Collins, it is. You don't believe me? Then look in the mirror… those tears are for love, honey. Those tears are grieving for someone you can't bear to lose, even though he isn't dead… the fact that he could be, though… that's what love does to us, you know? It hurts us even when things can get better, because we know there's a chance that they may not. The pain and hurt and tears is all for love… Angel knows that. Angel taught that to us. He taught it to _you_. And I don't think he could forget that… not when he's lived by that his whole life…" she smiled weakly. "What you and Angel have is pure love and that can't be broken, no matter what – because it's the most valuable thing we got here. He won't let that go. He won't let you go. Angel is love… and you're crying for love…"

Mimi's words of surprising wisdom and truth dug deeper into him and it just caused him to break down and cry once more. What she said made total sense. Keeping Mimi close to him, Collins looked up and through the salty dampness that clouded his vision, he focused on his four other friends sitting there, with Roger comforting Maureen and Joanne was talking with Mark softly. Finding the strength, Collins let go of Mimi and placed his hands against the wall behind him, and slowly pushed himself upwards and struggled to get to his feet. After he managed to steady himself, his sudden and unexplained movement garnered the attention of his friends, whose heads simultaneously turned in his direction. Maureen sat up straight, and they all remained silent – Mimi stayed sitting on the ground, and all of them tensed up and wondered what he was up to now. Things weren't necessarily tense between them all and him, but they all thought he was on a fine edge (and he was), because of all the stress.

Instead of lashing out, though, Collins slowly walked over to Maureen, who stared up at him silently. He knew that she didn't hate him, but did hold him responsible for what happened to Angel over the past few months.

"I'm sorry," he simply said. "For everything. I know I fucked up and I know you blame me, and that's fine… I blame myself too; if he dies, I know it'll be my fault. I know that. And I gotta live with that because I love him so much," he choked up and Maureen could see his throat visibly constricting and swallowing the lump that was there.

"And even if he does survive, I don't know if he'll forgive me… I'm not sure I want him to. Sam was outside and I can only assume he was there to distract me or whatever… and got one of his little goons to go in there and—" Collins couldn't bring himself to say the words, for the mental image of Angel lying and struggling in the bed, helplessly, as his throat was slit, was just too strong for him. Maureen stood up.

"I know I don't deserve him, but I just want you to know, Maureen… I didn't mean for any of it to happen. I never wanted to hurt Angel. And I never wanted to hurt any of you; you're my family. All of you. I don't care if you hate me as long as you know that I love you guys. Yeah, even you Mark," he added with a tough of sardonic humour, bringing a little smile to the amateur filmmaker's face. Collins looked at Maureen again.

"Like I said… I love him. And I love you guys, my family, and I'm sorry I hurt you… I hate myself for it. And I don't know if that's gonna change a damn thing… and—" but he was cut off when Maureen swatted his arm lightly, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him into an embrace. She flung her arms around his neck.

"Shut the fuck up," she said. "I love you too; sweetie… without you, there is no 'us'. You're important to us." Maureen had learned, for now, to put her selfish streak aside and embrace her friends' needs as her own – at least for a little while, while this shit was going down.

"Couldn't have it any other way," Mimi spoke up, softly. Roger stood up and made his way over to his girl and helped her to her feet.

"We get through this together, Tom," Mark told him. "You got not choice in the matter. You're stuck with us."

"Or is it that _we_ are stuck with _him_?" Roger added, playfully, drawing a small chuckle out of the professor.

"Either way," Collins replied. "Thanks guys… I need you. Angel needs us."

Maureen hugged him again and a warm feeling was generated between the group again, at a time when they really needed to reconnect for Angel's sake. What was the thing they used to say? No day but today…

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Recently I made some bad mistakes that almost cost me a lot, in terms of my creative projects, so I am debating whether or not I should quit writing entirely. I haven't lost the passion for it, but my confidence has been 'rattled' so to speak. Anyway, let me know what you think of the chapter.**

**Please review the chapter and let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate it.**


	17. Chapter 17

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 17**

**_SUMMARY:_ Okay, so I've decided to keep on writing for now. Otherwise I'd never hear the of it from a certain person. And no, Daina, I haven't cracked. I've decided to continue writing to finish the story for you and those who have requested me to do so. Okay, so anyway, in the last chapter our favourite group of bohemians came together and vowed to stay strong for Angel's sake. This chapter is about Mark, while wandering back to the hospital after going back to the loft to get his camera, manages to record something extraordinary… something that could potentially determine what happens to Angel and Collins. Also, Julia returns.**

* * *

It was now three hours later and there was still no word on Angel's condition, and so they could only take that as a semi-positive thing because they would've informed them if he had died or if his condition had worsened. No news is good news, right? Collins had been there ever since Angel was admitted to the hospital almost a week earlier, but everyone else came and went as they pleased. But ever since they learned of what had just happened to Angel _inside_ the hospital, and their reaffirmation of their friendship and family, no one was prepared to leave. Especially until they heard either way. Collins was feeling a lot better knowing that no matter what happened, he wouldn't lose the love and support of them but that doesn't mean the guilt inside him had dissipated any less.

It was just approaching 12:45 PM and the hospital was once again flowing with visitors and patients were being escorted too or from their rooms in preparation for whatever they were there to have done. Roger was asleep on one of those steely cold plastic hospital chairs, with Mimi also asleep on his lap. Mark was pacing up and down the corridor, obviously bored out of his mind without his camera around to keep him occupied. Maureen had disappeared to get some food with Joanne. And Collins was by himself, staring out a window at the busy New York life… people going about their daily lives, oblivious to all else except their own goals and lives. As it should be. Getting involved with other people's lives, especially those who don't want that involvement, can lead to very sticky situations… even tragedy.

Collins leaned against the window and let out a soft, wistful sigh, wishing that he had Angel in his arms… that they were back at their apartment (in which he hadn't been to in ages), just lying in bed with their arms around each other and talking, whispering, cuddling, kissing… doing what normal couples do. Having Angel in his arms was what he wanted more than anything, and now to be in a position where he couldn't control whether Angel lived or died… where he couldn't even get to say goodbye if Angel did in fact have to leave this mortal world behind… Collins was beyond the point of absolute anger or absolute agony. He was just letting go of any attempts to control it all now. Things would turn out how they were supposed to… but if Angel did die, he would never be the same again… but right now, there was no word either way, and so he vowed to keep strong and believe that Angel would pull through. Standing at the window, Collins looked up to see dark clouds' gathering in the sky… a summer storm was building, and it really suited his mood. Droplets of rain started lightly tapping against the glass and so the buildings, cars, and people in the distance started to become distorted by the rain. While absentmindedly staring up at the grey sky, he thought back to almost two years earlier… on a cold Christmas Eve…

_**FLASHBACK – CHRISTMAS EVE 1989**_

_Groaning and holding his arm tightly to his chest, the force of the blows that had been dealt to his torso had severely winded him, causing him to cough and splutter while swallowing as much air as he could. The pain was excruciating and lying against that cold wall in the dirt was befitting to his situation… Thomas Collins, a computer-age philosophy professor, who had just been fired from his job at MIT had no where to go but back to his friend's lot, where they were having enough trouble keeping heat and electricity utilities and paying the rent… it certainly wasn't a very merry Christmas. Nevertheless, he had vowed that he wouldn't be the one to create a dark cloud over the rest of his friend's lives, and just wanted to hang out with those who he felt most comfortable with. _

"_Fuck," he muttered and winced, before letting out a shallow gasp and groan from the pain._

_Struggling, he managed to push himself up against the wall and started shivering. Those bastards took his coat and it was threatening to snow… bleeding from his knee and with several cuts on his face, Collins felt the stinging sensation of the open wounds coming in contact with the external environment. This shit was _not_ what he was needing right now… why couldn't God just pick on some other poor, unsuspecting bastard?_

"_You okay honey?" came a sweet, soft voice that startled him to the point where he felt his whole body jump from shock. Looking up and blinking through the tears and letting his eyes adjust to the light that was shining down on him from the street light, Collins raised his hand to his eyes to shield the excess light, and saw someone… a slender young man, standing just in front of him. The person then knelt down and his face came into view, and Collins couldn't help but gasp softly at the beauty of this man… his features were delicate and friendly; soft and surprisingly caring and comforting… who was this person?_

"_I'm afraid so," he finally admitted, getting back to reality. He touched his forehead and winced at the stinging of the wound. Pulling his hand away from his face, Collins squinted and saw the residue blood on his fingers. Dammit. The younger man smiled in a non-sympathetic way, but instead showing that he cared. Reaching out, he gently touched the handsome, yet injured man lying against the wall on the side of his face, just underneath one of the cuts he had obviously sustained during the mugging (in which he hadn't seen). The man kinda drew back at his touch a bit, not knowing who this stranger was._

"_They get any money?" he asked, resting his hand on the man's shoulders. Collins shook his head in response and tried to sit up further, but couldn't without the assistance of his new acquaintance._

"_No," Collins replied. "Had none to get. But they purloined my coat…" a sudden rush of anger surged through his body and glaring in the direction where the muggers ran off in, and yelled at his long-gone attackers, "WELL YOU MISSED A SLEEVE!"_

_He looked back at the stranger, who was holding something out to him… it was the remaining sleeve of his coat. He took it. Then, Angel reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, and before Collins could react, he gently pressed it against one of the wounds to stop the bleeding. _"_Thanks."_

"_Hell it's Christmas Eve!" the person cried, exasperated and wondered how people could do this to another human being, especially on the eve of the day of giving and love and friendship. Instead of releasing the anger he felt, he regained his composure and looked at Collins, who was studying him in return, with curiosity._

"_I'm Angel," he smiled, charmingly and warmly._

"_Angel…" Collins repeated, and smiled in response, momentarily forgetting any pain he was feeling. The beauty of this 'Angel' person was overwhelming and he immediately felt at ease… likewise, Angel couldn't help but be drawn to this fallen stranger, whose handsome features and vulnerability only ignited the attraction. But there was just something there that had them encapsulated with each other, and neither could identify what it was. It was energy…_

"_Indeed…" a curiosity and even an intrigued tone in his voice, and all the pain and anger fell away as Angel helped him to his feet. "An angel of the first degree," he complimented, grateful for this beautiful young man's help... and something told him that the attraction was reciprocated… mutual. _"_Friends call me Collins… Tom Collins. Nice tree…"_

_Angel blushed a little and grinned. They both realized that they were still holding hands after Angel helped him to his feet, but neither of them pulled away._

"_Let's get a band-aid for your knee; I'll change! There's a life support meeting at nine-thirty, yes this body provides a comfortable home, for the Acquired Immune-Deficiency Syndrome," Angel couldn't stop himself from confessing his disease to this stranger, who's eyes widened with surprise and he thought for sure that this Tom Collins guy would become more reluctant. But instead, to Angel's surprise, Collins' eyes softened. _

"_As does mine…" Collins admitted, in slight shock that he and this beautiful soul were both infected with the same disease. This revelation caused Angel's heart to flutter and excitement caused him to squeal with delight… the attraction between them was instantly deepened._

"_We'll get along fine; get you a coat, have a bite; make a night – I'm flushed!" Angel fanned himself with his hand and linked arms with Collins out of pure attraction and also to make sure that he would be okay. But Collins initially resisted, weakly, and lightly pointed back towards the lost. _

"_But my friends are waiting!" _

_But Angel ignored him and stopped and turned around to face him, lightly grazing the side of Collins' cheek with his index finger. He was in a very flirtatious mood and there was just something about this guy that made him…well he was just so drawn to him, like with no man ever before._

"_You're cute when you blush!" Angel came dangerously close to admitting his attraction, but was a little scared. Understanding that Collins had somewhere else to be as well, he added, _"… _The more the merry ho, ho, ho! And I do not take NO!"_

_Collins couldn't believe the extraordinary personality of this vivacious Angel, who had instantly warmed his blood with the very first time their eyes connected. Finally, his resistance broke down and his muscles relaxed and allowed Angel to lead him away from the building. Was this the start of something special? It certainly felt so…_

_**END FLASHBACK**_

Collins smiled at that memory of the first time he and Angel had met… if there was ever the perfect example of love at first sight, this was it. Angel was his soul, his life, his everything… the reason for love and existence. The first time they kissed was so sweet and tender, yet so passionate and fiery… the taste of Angel's lips made him melt and only want more, knowing at that moment that they would forever be together. Of course, it seemed like fate had different plans and well that was just another obstacle that they faced in the course of their lives. Well whatever. There was nothing much he could do about it now and in his mind he kept repeating over and over that Angel was strong and would recover… but it seemed that the more he told himself that, the less he believed it.

"Hey," Mark's voice interrupted his thoughts and Collins turned around just a little as Mark came and stood next to him at the window.

"Hey man," Collins replied with a small smile. Acceptance of the situation at hand was never going to happen, but he definitely didn't mind some company.

"You okay?"

"Shouldn't I be asking that?"

"Does it matter?"

"Probably not," Mark agreed. "To answer your question, I'm okay. You?"

"Seen better days," Collins replied and let his entire body weight rest against the window. All of his energy was almost gone; he could feel it – and Mark could see it. But the adrenaline was still keeping him awake, so there was little chance of him getting any sleep. "Doesn't seem fair…" he whispered, wistfully and lowered his eyes to his hands. "That Angel's gotta suffer cause of me…"

"He's not suffering 'cause of you, Tom," Mark replied and clasped his hands behind his neck, stretching his arm and neck muscles as best he could. "Think about it - he's still alive. No matter what, Sam hasn't succeeded… Angel hasn't let him."

"I guess he was right, then."

"Who?"

"Sam. When he said that even I didn't want to let go of the past."

"Why?"

"I dunno… I guess I was just scared or something. Angel is everything Sam's not, and I guess I felt I didn't deserve him," Collins explained. "Like something was gonna come along and destroy what I have with Angel because he was too good for me… when really the only thing to destroy it was me. I dunno, man… either way, Sam was right."

Mark, feeling the weight of fatigue finally taking a hold of him, felt himself practically fall down on the chair next to the window, against the wall.

"Fuck, Collins," he muttered. "Never say 'Sam was right'. That's just…"

"I know."

"And stop blaming yourself. It's getting old."

"Uh-huh."

"I mean it."

"I can do whatever I damn well please."

"Get over it."

"Bitch."

"I know."

The two of them paused and looked at each other, before erupting with laughter. It was an ice-breaking moment and gave both of them a little bit of relief from the torment that was going on in their lives. Collins felt lucky to have the friends he did, and in the world they existed in, he needed them more than anything – should Angel die, he'd still have them, true. But they wouldn't have him anymore.

"So what you gonna do?" Mark asked, more seriously. "I mean, about Sam and Julian?"

Collins just kept quiet upon hearing Julian's name, figuring it was he who probably did this to Angel now. Like I said before, it's not rocket science. But what could he do now? I mean, there was no way the law was gonna make them pay – there was no evidence! Their history with Sam would be brought into question and it would be a classic 'us' versus 'them' type thing… plus, Sam and Collins' relationship would also be a central issue, as well as Angel – Collins didn't want to put Angel through the stress of having his entire life and indeed lifestyle questioned. At least, not without total certainty that Sam and Julian were punished for it all.

"What can I do, Mark? Those assholes are gonna get away with almost killing the love of my life; the cops are damn sure not gonna do anything about it; and Sam's gonna be laughing it up that he's finally got his revenge on me."

"Sam didn't win anything, you know…"

"Sure, Mark. And Angel isn't lying in that operating room almost dead because of me. Come on man, you look me in the eyes and tell me you don't believe that."

As much as Mark wanted to open his mouth and disagree with everything his friend just said, he couldn't deny the inevitable fact that if Collins had been honest with all of them from the beginning, none of this would've happened – or at least, not turned out as badly as they have.

"It'll get better."

"Sure."

"I'm serious!"

"I know you are. Doesn't mean I believe you anymore than I do."

Mark sighed, giving up on trying to convince him otherwise, and ran his fingers through his blonde hair, and then stood up.

"Look, I got something I gotta do; I'm heading back to the loft. Need anything?"

"Nah I'm cool."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, seeya later man…"

"Yeah."

Mark left, once again leaving Collins alone to his own mind and in being alone he was able to regain his thoughts of him and Angel in more 'normal' times. He remembered that every time they used to lie in bed together, Angel would seductively kiss his neck and let his tongue caress the soft skin behind Collins' ear, stimulating the senses and heating up the already intense passion that kept both of them more satisfied with each other than ever. Angel knew just the right spots on Collins' skin that could get the older man in the mood for some good ol' fashioned lovemaking (not that it took much coaxing). To think of the possibility that it may never happen again… and that there was nothing that was preventing him from going out and finding Samuel and putting his head through a brick wall… the only thing that was keeping Collins at the hospital was the small possibility that Angel might wake up and need him at his bedside.

"Angel…" he whispered his name, with so much sadness in his voice. Angel wasn't even dead, and it was like he was already feeling the anxiety and pain of losing a loved one. Seconds passed. Minutes. More minutes. More than thirty minutes after Mark had left his side, Collins was still in his same position at the window…

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even noticed the middle-aged man in the white medical coat approaching with a clipboard in his hand.

"Mr. Collins?"

Turning around, Collins paled when he saw the doctor standing in front of him, looking solemn. _Shit…_ he thought._ Oh God… no… please no…_

Stepping forward, he resisted the temptation to grab the doctor by the throat, shove him against the wall, and demand to see Angel, but knew that would get him absolutely no where.

Shaking very badly now, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and felt like he was getting smaller by the second.

"Wh… how is he?" was all he could say, his voice cracking with anticipation.

"The surgery… was successful," the doctor gave him the news he wanted to hear, and all Collins could do was close his eyes and sink to the floor – his legs finally gave out on him, despite it being the news he longed for. The doctor rushed to his side and knelt down to support him, but Collins gave him a small wave of the hand to let him know he was okay – sort of.

"Sir?"

"H…" Collins stuttered. "How is—"

He allowed himself to be helped up.

"He's stable; we're moving him back into ICU. Angel is under very heavy sedation; sir, he lost a lot of blood…"

"Will he live?" Collins asked, dreading the answer.

"We don't know," the doctor replied, honestly – and sympathetically. Right now, it could go either way because Angel had lost a lot of blood, especially from his shoulder and obviously his throat.

"The knife wound nicked one of his carotid arteries and so there was extensive blood lose. The wound in his shoulder was reopened, the tendons connection the muscle to the shoulder bone has been completely severed, and he will need to have reconstructive surgery on it tomorrow. Right now, we've just been able to control the bleeding and stabilize him."

Taking deep breaths, Collins lifted his eyes to study the body language and composure of the medical physician – there was a sense of hope there, he could tell – that all was not lost. But to have Angel still alive almost having all the blood in his body drained from him – it was a miracle.

"Can I see him?"

"Of course."

**MEANWHILE, WITH MARK – 1 HOUR LATER**

Rare was the occasion when Mark was without his camera, but his documentation of his life and the lives of his friends were very important to him – because sooner, rather than later, four of his best friends would be dead. Angel, Collins, Roger, and Mimi all had the virus that would eventually lead to their deaths, and that knowledge was not lost on Mark, Maureen, or Joanne. So, through the good times and bad, Mark would always be there to record their times together and preserve the past on celluloid and be able to step back in time every time he turn it on. Ever since Maureen left him, it became a solace as he lost himself in the work and found the beauty and creativity of filmmaking.

Running his fingers across the lens cap and walking down the sidewalk, Mark looked around at the bustling New York City life. He'd lived here for as long as he could remember, and never before did the city seem as dangerous as it did now… and never before had been so affected by violent inhabitants that called NYC home. The Alphabet City was never as scary, but it's not like he was afraid of it or anything – just more wary of everything going on around them.

It wasn't long, though, before he came across the alleyway in where Angel had been found – the place where Samuel initially attacked him. Stopping where he was, he couldn't resist the temptation to take a detour from his intended destination – the curiosity was just too great. But before he could even put one more foot in front of him to walk down the alleyway, a voice called out from behind him.

"MARK!"

Turning around, his breath caught in his throat when he saw Julia Sampson jog up to him, and she had obviously come from the direction of the loft where he had been just minutes earlier. She was looking quite tired from the hours of driving it would've taken for her to get to the city from where she lived. She was wearing low-riding jeans and a black and blue t-shirt, with blue sandals and her hair was pulled up into a basic ponytail – attire that was suitable for the summer, but apparently she hadn't been warned of the impending storm in the city, so she was also shivering a bit. Finally, she came to a stop just in front of him.

"Hey, Julia," he replied, slowly, just as she pulled him into a hug which, needless to say, stunned him. After the shock wore off though, he returned the gesture but could feel his heart repeatedly slamming into his ribs in rapid succession. "What you doing here?"

"I tried to call the loft but no one was there, you know? So I figured something was up." Even though she wasn't yet fully accepted by the group, and she knew that, Julia did feel a strong connection to them through her strong friendship with Collins. And Mark felt she could be trusted, but he may be biased, considering well… it doesn't matter. She didn't know what had happened with Angel in the hospital, and he was dreading have to repeat the events again. "What's been going on? Is Collins okay? Angel?"

"Well, uh…" he stammered and fidgeted, looking around them nervously. "You missed a lot, Julia. Bad shit has gone down."

Her face fell. "What?"

Mark looked down the alleyway again and gently took her by the arm and pulled her in its direction. If he was gonna tell her then they should at least have some privacy. Julia allowed herself to be pulled away, her resistance breaking down, and she followed Mark into what she didn't know was the 'scene of the crime' that took place last Friday. It was a long, narrow alleyway that was filled with garbage bags, debris, glass, razor sharp barbed wire, among other things… a dirty, disease-ridden environment that she certainly wasn't accustomed to, and she scrunched up her face in disgust at the horrible smell. Apparently, though, it didn't seem to bother Mark – or if it did, he didn't show it…

"Mark, what's going on?" without warning, and out of a sudden fear that crashed into her for some reason, she grabbed his hand and stepped over a knocked over trash can, with all its gross contents spilling out across the walkway. Mark hesitated nervously, before adjusting his grip on her hand in a reassuring manner that he wouldn't let anything happen to her – to him, she lived an obviously sheltered life when it came to her stepping outside of her comfort zone. Before he could reply though, Mark came to a stop so suddenly that Julia almost crashed into him from walking so closely to him. He stared down into the pile of debris and glass, with a horror. Julia's eyes followed his gaze, and once they focused on what he was staring at, she too was overcome with fear – her expression mirrored Mark's. Blood. A hell of a lot of it. And shreds of a flowery white garment, maybe from a skirt, that had been dyed red from all of the blood…

"Fuck," she whispered and moved closer to Mark, who in response placed his arm around her waist in comfort. "Mark, what the—"

"Don't you get it?" he replied. "You think this life is cool now, Julia? This is where Angel was attacked… the crime scene…"

Julia whimpered and felt the stinging burn of tears in her eyes, as vivid images flashed through her head of what must have happened – the pain Angel must have been in and the fear of dying. Mark moved to let go of her, but she held onto his arm, letting out a soft protest of 'no'. The reality of how these bohemians lived and how different their lives and struggles were to her own cushy lifestyle had hit her with the full force of a freight train. Looking down at her, Mark then realized how scared she actually was, and so kept his arm fully around her – he wasn't used to being in the position of having to protect someone, but given her obvious naivety, he didn't mind at all. Using one arm, Mark shifted so that the strap of his camera fell off his shoulder, and yes he was planning to get this on film… not show it to anyone, but just in case… Julia watched him and then realized what he was doing.

"You're gonna film it!"

"Just trust me, okay!"

"Dude, that's not cool."

"I said, 'trust me'!" he snapped, unintentionally. "I know what I'm doing. This may come in handy for the cops…"

"You think they'll do anything?"

"Probably not. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

Julia didn't respond; not wanting to argue with his logic… whether it was skewed logic or not, she knew there was a reason behind it. She couldn't understand how they lived, so it wouldn't be appropriate for her to dictate to him what was right or wrong; what was moral or immoral. Morality went out the window as soon as she stepped into the East Village. Using one hand, Mark manipulated the camera so it was ready to roll, but then had to let go of Julia so he could actual film the environment – if cops weren't gonna do their job, then he'd do it for them. It wasn't him being heroic, but after what had just happened to Angel in the hospital, where he was supposed to be protected and to recover from his already substantially serious injuries, Mark had lost even more faith in the city officials.

"I can't believe this…" he heard her whisper, in awe. He wasn't surprised at her reaction, but was surprised at her lack of ability to understand it. "How can you guys live like this?" Immediately Julia regretted asking that, knowing how bad that sounded. Mark looked at her, knowingly, but wasn't offended.

"Maybe you should ask Sammy that," he replied. "You wanna know what a trashy life is? Can't get more fucked up than his."

"I don't wanna know," she conceded, still holding onto Mark's shirt while he filmed. "Is it always this bad?"

"You have no idea. People like you watch the news and see the rioting and car chases without having the slightest reality check. No offence."

"None taken."

After Mark finished, he replaced the lens cap but kept the camera on standby just in case he saw anything else that caught his attention. He then knelt down next to the puddle of blood, being careful not to touch it.

"Fuck… shit, Angel…" he whispered in disbelief about how much blood there actually was, and how Angel could survive another attack given all the blood that he was robbed of.

"I'm sorry," Julia whispered – the group was very close, something she had yet to understand, but wished they would allow her to. If anything, she wanted to break down the barrier and distrust between herself and them. She wasn't surprised that they, except Collins, was so distrusting of her and wary of her presence, and Mark certainly seemed more accepting of her than the others – also, there was Angel, but they connected over Collins. "It's gotta hurt bad…"

"More than anything," Mark nodded. "The worst thing is not being able to do a damn thing about it."

She helped him stand up straight and then linked her fingers with his, and the two of them stared at each other. Generally speaking, they're polar opposites – coming from different backgrounds, living different lives, holding different values and different interests, so it would be safe to guess that these two hooking up wouldn't be a good idea. But right now, logic and reason was non-existent in the bohemian world in which Julia had willing crossed over into. She didn't understand them anymore than they did her, but if the circumstances were right, no one would be able to tell (on the surface) that she wasn't one of them. Julia desperately wanted to understand, without getting too close… and that couldn't happen. So the situation called for her to re-evaluate her priorities and values that were programmed into her from an early age. And given that they were standing in a dirty alleyway, right next to a pool of Angel's blood, it certainly wasn't the time nor place for them to act in anyway with each other. Instead, Mark eyes flickered with uncertainty.

"Angel was attacked." He simply said. She wanted to know? He would tell her. Confusion was what he read on her face.

"I know that—" she started to say, but he raised a hand to keep her quiet so he could finish.

"A second time," he continued. "In the hospital."

Julia's eyes widened. "WHAT!"

"I think Sam lured Collins outside, leaving Angel alone… it was last night…" Mark's throat closed up and could barely keep it open long enough to say what he had to. "Someone then went and slit Angel's throat. He was tortured a second time!"

Julia almost fainted at that news and lost her balance, but Mark caught her by the waist just in time to keep her falling down into the garbage and barbed wire.

"You okay?"

"No… no one heard him screaming!"

"I guess he shoved a sock in his mouth or something, I don't know!" Mark cried and started walking, still holding onto her hand, pulling her along. "Angel's in surgery now… I don't know…"

"How's Tom?"

"Collins? How do you think!"

"I _mean_… how is he holding up?"

Mark shook his head and jumped over some barbed wire, while Julia stepped around it. Her hold of his hand just seemed to grow tighter as they moved further down the narrow passageway between the two tall buildings.

"He's okay, I guess," Mark assured her. "He's opened up a bit… he knows he's got us. He still blames himself, though…"

"It isn't his fault."

"Part of it is, but I know what you're saying. It's not all his fault."

"Way to support your friend, Mark."

"Well I ain't gonna lie about it, especially to him. He abandoned us all you know…"

"So you still blame him?"

"Fuck, no Julia! It's just I'm not gonna sugarcoat it for him and the reality of it is, he did fuck up and now both of them are paying the price."

Julia again didn't reply to that – it was clear how much her knowledge of life was different from Mark's, so again them hooking up probably would just result in fighting and constant bickering or whatever. After all, they are from two different worlds. But then again… opposites can attract. In fact, she found herself admiring Mark's position and how he wouldn't back down from it – like he was admitting that neither him nor his friends were perfect and that they saw the world for what it was. Cold. Harsh. But love and friendship and family made it all bearable… and that was all they needed.

They walked further down the alleyway silently for a few more moments… what more can be said? Julia's unfamiliarity with the surroundings would leave her as fresh meat to the creeps that often crawled around these areas, so she made sure to stay glued at Mark's side.

"So…" she spoke up, wanting to kill the awkward silence. "How are you handling it?"

"Not good," he confessed, giving her a sad, despaired look. "It's like the family is falling apart all over again, you know?"

"I haven't seen anyone as strong as you guys. I guess you have to be," she agreed and lightly kicked at a small tin can.

"You wouldn't last two minutes."

"Thanks."

"It's the truth. A preppy rich girl like you? I still don't know what you're doing here…"

That was enough. Julia harshly yanked her hand away from his and came to an abrupt, glaring harshly at Mark, who also stopped and turned around.

"What? You okay?"

"No I'm not okay!" she spat back. "I'm sick of you rubbing it into my face of how I don't and couldn't possibly understand, and that I couldn't survive here—"

"You couldn't!"

"And I'm inclined to agree with you. But my friend is hurting and his boyfriend is almost dead, and THAT'S why I'm here, Mark! You act like I'm not supposed to be here," she yelled at him, sick and tired of his, in her mind, condescending behavior. "Like there's some invisible barrier that forbids me from being here; like it's not normal!"

"It isn't!" he replied, but wasn't yelling. He knew why she had suddenly been pissed off and regretted saying what he did… he didn't mean for it to come out like that. "You forget, Julia that people from _your_ type of neighbourhood that cast us out as outcasts, like _we_ don't belong… like _we're_ the drain on society. It's your society that condemns us and treats us like animals! Don't go at me with your self-righteousness… you may be here for Collins, but don't pretend you understand it! You're society tells us that we're the failures and brings us out as the bad influences on people's kids, like we're nothing but poverty-stricken lazy artists who have nothing better to do. And you know something? They're right. We're the ones that get treated like nothing… so there is a barrier. I'll bet anything if your family knew you were here, they'd go nuts. It's society that put up that barrier. Not us."

Mark couldn't help but throw that out at her, and Julia stood there in stunned silence. Everything he said was true… they were outcasts, deemed so by people _like_ her. That really did suck… no wonder it was so hard for her to gain their trust.

"I—" she stuttered and took a step back. Mark instantly regretted going off at her like that.

"Julia I'm sor—"

"No," she interrupted. "Forget it; you're right. Why trust me? I get it…" she turned away and started walking towards the end of the alleyway, where there was a backstreet that diverged in both left and right directions.

"Julia!" he called after her, but she didn't turn around, so he chased after her. But before he could reach her, Julia reached the end of the path and came to a stop when she saw two young men talking quietly about thirty feet away from her. They looked like shady characters, and the younger looking one seemed to be yelling at the other man, who looked somewhat pissed off.

"Julia, look, I'm sorry—" Mark approached her, but stopped when he also saw what – or _who_ – she was staring at. And he recognized them.

"Fuck!" he muttered and grabbed Julia's arm and pulled her against the wall, to remain out of sight of Samuel and Julian. He pinned her to the wall with his own weight, and she glared at him.

"Mark! What are—"

"Shh!" he hissed. "That's Sam and Julian."

"What!"

"Shh!" he hushed her again. Their faces were within inches of each other now, and to say there was some tension there would be an understatement. Mark had never used force like this against any woman before, and never before was he so controlling… but he couldn't take a chance of those two psychos finding them.

"Stay here," he instructed firmly. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going!" she kept a hold of his shirt. "Are you crazy?"

"That's besides the point," Mark replied. "Just stay here…" he stepped away from her and she let go, silently praying that he didn't do something he'd regret. Mark wasn't the heroic type – that's more of Roger's thing. Instead, he was kinda the outsider looking in… so to be thrown into the centre of the situation like this was more than a little daunting for him. He kept low and quietly snuck behind a stack of garbage bags to get a little closer to what they were saying… he then removed the lens cap off the camera and tried to remain as still as possible. He'd have to get closer to be able to clearly here what they were saying… after he was in a good position, he pointed the camera in their direction and started filming.

Sam was so close to beating the shit out of Julian… he didn't think his friend would go so far as to slit Angel's throat! If he died, they'd be up on murder charges for sure!

"Fuck, Julian!" he almost yelled. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"At the time?" Julian responded, casually, not getting why his friend was wound up so tight. "I dunno… seeing him lying there so helpless. That feeling of control. You know – you must've felt it too, last week."

Sam slammed his hand down onto the metal sheet that was perched against a light post, after being discarded. The banging noise caused Julian to jump back, slightly shocked at the strong reaction he was getting… Sam had been in on the plan all the way! Granted, he didn't know about the knife or what Julian was planning to do to Angel, but now Sam thought they were both way in over their heads.

"You just better hope he keeps his mouth shut!" Sam growled. Friendship aside, he wouldn't hesitate the tear him apart if Angel did divulge the details of both attacks – now Julian was in deep too, so if Sam went down he could take consolation that his idiot partner-in-crime (literally) would go down with him.

"Or what?" Julian challenged. "He can't prove anything! With the history between us and them, there's nothing they can do about it!"

Mark kept the camera firmly focused, and just whispered to himself, wanting them to slip up and say something stupid… something that can prove to the cops that they did it, and would therefore force their hand to act. Surprisingly, Mark didn't feel at all nervous, but did feel his heart beating harder and harder…

"Come on, come on!" he softly implored. "Give it up."

Sam stared up at the cloud-ridden sky and exhaled the smoke from the cigarette he had lit minutes earlier… too bad Randy was having a bit of trouble getting the stash. The business deal hadn't turned sour, yet, but it was just a little more difficult than anticipated, and Sam was impatient. He needed his fix. Things were getting bad with Angel and Collins, and even though Julian was right in that they couldn't prove anything against them, there was still the possibility that they would talk.

"You better be right, Julian. I swear, I won't hesitate to get them to beat you into an early death if we get fucked over. You hear me?"

"Fuck you. We're in the clear!" Julian replied and took a chugged down some more beer. "Get over it!"

"I'm warning you…"

"Dude, I got it covered!" he insisted, chuckling at the paranoid behaviour Sam was exhibiting – and he wasn't even high!

"Like I said, you better be right."

Julian walked over and patted Sam on the back, reassuringly. Despite the threats and the fact that neither were afraid to screw the other over if the time absolutely called for it, they were friends through and through. They lived in a very harsh world, in which it was every man for himself, and they were no exception to the rules.  
Sam shook his head and leaned against the light post, taking another drag of his cigarette and kept his thoughts to himself. He was terrified of getting caught out for rape and attempted murder, and if Angel died then it _would_ be murder… and as much as he wouldn't hesitate in killing someone who came between him and his business deals, when it came to Angel… if Angel died, the pain that would be inflicted on Collins is too much for Sam, considering that he still loved him.

He then looked at Julian. Julian wouldn't intentionally hurt him, and they would always look out for each other… unless circumstances dictated otherwise.

"I still love him."

"I know, buddy. I know it hurts. But believe me, you're better off without him! I mean, you see what he did to Angel, right? Whose to say he wouldn't do that to you?" Julian pointed out.

"I know."

"Look," Julian sighed. "If anything happens, I'll have it covered, okay? You're not going to jail. I gave Angel what he deserved, and you sure as hell did last week… you know they still haven't cleaned up the blood, right? No one gives a damn about what happened to him!"

"You attacked him in the hospital, Julian!" Sam retorted. "I think they'll care, now, if not for Angel – for their reputation and legalities or whatever… they don't wanna be sued, so they're gonna care now!"

"You shoulda seen it, Sam!" Julian ignored him and smiled, reliving what he did. "I cut his hands, so he couldn't do anything… then his throat… you should've seen the fear. Even you would've got off on it!"

"Shut the hell up!"

Mark couldn't believe what he was getting on film… Julian had just made a total confession! This was gold! If there was ever a time Mark's camera proved useful, this was it. A smile spread across his face as he turned the camera off he leaned against the wall for support.

"Oh my God…"

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Mark has just caught a confession on camera… things are gonna get interesting. Next chapter: Does Angel live or die? Collins makes an emotional plea to his lover. **


	18. Chapter 18

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 18**

**_SUMMARY:_ Collins makes a desperate plea to his lover. Mark makes a phone call to a familiar person.**

* * *

3:00 PM. Sitting there at Angel's bedside, Collins only could stare at the mass bandages that covered almost every part of his face, and was wrapped around his neck which was being supported by a neck brace. A tube was attached to Angel's neck and was inserted into his trachea to provide him with air; and the machines surrounding him were the only things keeping him in the land of the living. It was all too much, and when Collins initially walked into the room, his legs turned to jelly and almost gave out on him, and Roger and Mimi had to grab his arm to prevent him from crashing to the ground. The vulnerability that was the sight of his beloved Angel lying there, almost unrecognizable, was a rare and very painful one… for all of them. He was pale, though warm to the touch and once again the consistency of the heart monitors provided the only sound that broke the deafening silence.

Collins had been sitting there for almost two hours just looking at him, holding his hand and placing loving kisses on each of his fingers and caressing Angel's skin, hoping that he could feel it and hear his voice. For Angel to die now, after everything he and all of them had gone through in recent days, would only serve to prove to Collins that there really was no God – no higher, all-powerful, all-loving being who protects His children. If Angel died… if even his beautiful soul wasn't enough to bring some sort of redemption to the human race… if even he wasn't deserving of a fuller life… then what hope was there for the rest of them? More importantly, to Collins, there would be no room left in for the capacity to love… love another as he does with Angel; or even love someone else, embraced as a friend. Each minute that passed only sucked more and more life out of his soul and there was only one thing that could breathe life back into him – and that was for Angel to open his beautiful eyes once more. Little did Collins know, obviously, of what just happened with Mark and Julia not too far away, and the fact that now Sam and Julian were caught on camera – Julian' recklessness now really had screwed them both. Even if Collins did know of this 'development', he wouldn't care… no longer could he afford, nor did he have the energy for, focusing his attention on his ex lover and his junkie sidekick. Angel, as he was and as he is now, had Collins' attention fully in hi grasp…

Roger and Mimi were also in the room, having been awoken by Collins as he and the doctor walked to Angel's new room. Obviously they were as shocked, though just as relieved, as he was when they were told that their friend had survived the surgery and was now in the tedious stage of recovery. When Mimi saw the condition that Angel was in, it took every bit of strength she had left in her (strength that was already being drained by the effects of withdrawal and the virus as it circulated its destructiveness through her veins) to not break down like Collins had done. Now, she was sitting on the other side of the bed from Collins and Roger was with her, sitting on the arm of the chair, and neither of them was saying a thing.

Mimi was slouched in her seat, twirling her hair around her finger, not really thinking about anything. She looked at Collins, who barely had registered, let alone acknowledged their presence… for his whole world was consumed with Angel, and nothing could become a distraction for him anymore. Disregarding the fact that for the past couple of days he was supposed to be working on, and submitted, his class' exams and that MIT had been trying to get in touch with him. He had finished his preparation, however, it had totally slipped his mind and again, he wouldn't have cared anyway.

Meanwhile as Roger sat there, he was wondering where Maureen, Joanne, and Mark were… surely they wouldn't want to be away for too long, at the risk of not being there at the moment Angel woke up – or, in fact, died. He stood up and stretched his arms, accompanied by a soft yawn.

"I'll go find the girls, and Mark…" he softly told Mimi, directing his comment to her as he knew Collins wouldn't hear him. She grabbed his arm.

"Maybe I'll go, too…" she replied, equally as soft. "I think they should be alone."

"I don't think Collins should be left by himself."

"Well what can I do? In his mind, we're not here. I don't think it'll make a difference," she insisted.

"Mimi—"

"I just think Collins needs time by himself, that's all."

Roger again opened his mouth to debate her, but when he looked at Collins, he saw a broken man who looked like he didn't even notice their slightly raised voices. He was blocking everything out, and that wasn't healthy… but as long as he wasn't talking to anyone, there was nothing they could do. He sighed.

"Fine. Fine." He walked around the bed and stopped at Collins' side. "Collins?"

Nothing.

"Collins? Mimi and me are gonna go find the others. Need anything, man?"

No response.

"Collins?"

After trying that third time and still getting no indication that Collins had heard him, he rested his hand on the man's shoulder.

"We'll be back soon, k?"

Knowing he wouldn't get any sort of acknowledgment, Roger didn't bother to wait to see if Collins even looked up as he and Mimi headed for the door and disappeared around the corner seconds later. Nothing changed in their absence as indicated by the lone ticking of the clock in between the sounds of the heart monitor that gave comfort of life still in Angel's body. Whether that life was gonna still be alive in his mind and heart when – _if_ – he woke up, was a different story entirely.

Collins released his lock on Angel's hands; their fingers having been intertwined and he released them so he could stretch and give some exercise to his muscles. His stiffness and soreness was resonated by the escape of a soft groan from the back of his throat and blinking rapidly to break himself free of the restraints of the emotional carnage that lay before him. Collins then looked around, also relaxing his neck muscles in the process, and resisted the urge to stand up and move around – after what happened last time, he was determined not to move from the spot he was in until Angel awoke. And he would wake up. He would. _He has to…_ Collins thought.

With an impending headache, he closed his eyes and massaged his temples with his index fingers and tapped his foot lightly on the ground out of sheer impatience – he didn't need his own body; his own _mind_ attacking him now…

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he muttered, becoming insanely pissed off. He _so_ did not need this now. Was God just screwing with him now? Kicking him while he was down? Or was it just fate's way of playing hackey-sack with his heart? In this one moment of his brief diversion of attention from Angel, he didn't notice the movement of his lover's fingers and the flickering of his eyes as the anesthesia wore off and brought him back to the world. The movement was brief and very weak, but Collins wouldn't have noticed anyway… the numbness in Angel's throat prevented even the most inaudible vocal outreach, and the blindness of the changing lighting dynamics meant he couldn't see anyway – at least, not at that moment.

It took a lot of effort for Angel's thumb to push through the air and garner even a little strength. Being at in a still position for what seemed forever, the impeded blood flow to his muscles made him very, understandably weak. Angel's brain wasn't exactly functioning at his brightest, but things became clearer each second he was awake… he could hear an incoherent, muffled-sounding voice to his side, but couldn't move his head to see because of the neck brace and the heavy, thick bandages that were wrapped around his neck, face, and head. In actuality, even if someone was looking at him, it'd be hard to see that he was really awake unless they remained focused on him. There was no pain. That was the first thing that came to his mind. The power of the medication he was on immediately began forcing his eyelids to close again, and he struggled against the strength of the morphine and other pain controllers to stay awake… ten seconds after he initially regained contact with the world of the conscious, he couldn't remember a damn thing about what happened. He could hear the muffled sounds continue, but couldn't recognize the voice… it sounded so soft and incoherent that he thought whoever it was, must have been at a distance. Nevertheless, the small movements continued, and he successfully managed to move his hand ever so slightly closer to his body. Collins had still yet to notice this movement, and his eyes remained closed as his head started pounding harder, quicker.

"Fuck! Why don't you just take me now?" he growled, intending it towards God or whatever being controlled the dynamics of the universe. True, only seconds had passed since the first movement that showed resilience and life in Angel, but that was about all the drag queen could manage, as he didn't even have a clue where he was or wasn't even tuned into anything around him – basically, he was still out of it, without a clue.

Obviously, Angel's awakening was an astonishing event and would warrant extra monitoring now that his condition was stable, yet now more vulnerable… but still, Collins hadn't noticed. Minutes passed. The younger man laid there, awake, and becoming more aware of his surroundings, when he finally could recognize the voice of his lover flow into his ears. Desperately, Angel lay there and wanted to get Collins' attention, but to no avail – he couldn't speak. He couldn't even make one squeak or sound. He could barely move. There was no pain – but almost his entire body was numb (and that definitely wasn't a bad thing, considering the alternative…)  
With his eyes barely open and the blurred colours of his environment filtered in, Angel couldn't feel the dampness already formulating in his eyes… from a mixture of fatigue, fear, and not knowing what was happening around him. And he still couldn't remember what happened. Well, at only four or so minutes after opening his eyes, its understandable as to why he couldn't remember a thing or why he was so confused and barely in a mindset to communicate with anyone.

Meanwhile Collins, his mind, continued to curse and mutter under his breath… all his energy was gone now, so there wasn't much else to do except complain. The only thing was, there was no one to complain to… now he wished he had made either Roger or Mimi stay with him and give some company.

"God dammit…"

Collins opened his eyes again and exhaled the air he had, unknowingly, been holding in his lungs. Casually, he stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles and leaned back in his seat, not even thinking anymore… too much energy. Reaching over to grab the soda can sitting on the bedside table, Collins froze and his attention was snapped in Angel's direction… a flicker of the eyes!

"Angel!" he cried, leaning on the bed just enough, though remaining careful of the tubes and life support measures that were in place. He also took hold of Angel's hand, carefully, given both of them were cut up pretty badly. _Please…_ he silently pleaded with the same higher divinity he was almost trashing seconds earlier.

"Angel! Shit… baby? You awake?"

Angel didn't respond and the flickering stopped… the movement stopped. Almost instantly, Collins' heart sank deeper than the Titanic… maybe he got his hopes up. Maybe he was just wanting Angel to live and wake up so badly, that he was beginning to see things. Maybe it was just a reflexive twitch of the nerves. Who knows? Tears welled in his eyes at the sudden excitement that rose and deflated in an instant…

"Get a grip, Tom," he scolded himself just as his throat tightened up.

Angel could barely keep his eyes open and had finally allowed his body's desires – or at least, the medication's power – take over him for that split second when he had caught Collins' attention. Great. There's nothing he wanted more than to feel Collins' lips on his own, or the warmth of his embrace… but since Angel could barely lift a finger, or understand what had happened, he was left to revel in the memories and the desires. Not even morphine could kill the memories and desires. Inside, though, he was crying – hysterically. He didn't know why; he couldn't _remember_ why. But whatever had happened, he knew it had been bad… he just remembered choking. And blood. That's it. Angel's heart fluttered with desire – to feel Collins, and to feel the comfort, so using all the strength he could muster to break through the wall of pain killers and numbness, he strained to open his eyes just a little further. He succeeded, and more light temporarily blinded him… the longer he held onto being awake, the more difficult it became and sleep was taunting him and beckoning him closer… but then, as he was starting to gain some hold of himself to stay awake, Angel heard crying. Looking out of the corner of his eyes, he could barely see Collins sobbing into his hands…

Not being able to speak up or physically get his attention, Angel laid there with his heart wrenching at the sight… through everything, he never had felt so much pain coming from Collins as he was feeling now. He allowed his eyes to close when the force became to strong, but remained awake…

"Angel…" he heard Collins cry his name. "Baby I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Collins looked at Angel with a look of total sadness… life destroyed. The price that had to be paid for his recklessness – his _stupidity_ – was Angel's life… every time he screwed up, Angel ended up getting hurt or driven to the point where his whole world could collapse.

With a shaking hand, he reached over and gently touched Angel's cheek… feeling the warm skin under his thumb sent chills down his spine. All he wanted to say was about to come out now, when Angel was unconscious… he wanted it to come out when Angel could hear his voice (unbeknownst to him, Angel could at that point – but hey! He didn't know that!), but that wasn't gonna happen now.

Angel felt his touch and wanted to cry right there and then – he didn't feel angry or sad, just love.

"Angel, I shouldn't have left…" Collins confessed. He didn't know that Angel was hearing every word he was saying… maybe that was for the best, anyway. "I'm so sorry… it's my fault, baby. All this shit is my fault! I'm supposed to be in this bed, not you… not you…" blinded by his pain, he wasn't going to stop now. If it all had to come out, it had to be now.

"Baby you can't die. Not now; not after everything! I love you. Please come back, Angel… God, I'll do anything you want. I don't care if you hate me – I'll leave if you want; I won't come back! Just please hold on… hold on with everything you got. Please!"

The heart felt plea, especially the part when Collins offered to leave if he came back, thinking that Angel would blame him for everything, was like a dagger to Angel.

"It's all my fault… you shouldn't pay for it, baby. The only reason it's like this is because you loved me. Even after what I did, you still loved me… I don't know why… and…" he coughed. "I'll always love you, baby. It's all too much now. I just wanna… take you away from here, you know? I know New York is home. But it's like… the whole world already condemns us, and its like New York is doing the same now. I just wanna take you away where you can be safe, but I don't wanna take you from home… it just hurts too much now."

Collins' words echoed in his ears and were imprinted in his mind… if he did get out of this alive, there's probably not much chance he'd allow himself to be taken from New York. If it was bad here, it would be even worse anywhere else. Except maybe San Francisco or some place like that… but that wasn't the point. New York City was home. New York is where Angel belongs, but he understood what Collins was saying – and really it just made him realize why he loved this man so much. It wasn't possible, Angel thought, for him to love Collins anymore than he did… because he always loved him so much that really was worth ALL the pain and ALL the torment that he went through. No matter what, he wouldn't let Collins go again, and he would never stop loving him.

Collins lowered his head to Angel's cheek and kissed him.

"Come on, sweetie… please, hear me… please come back!"

**WITH MARK AND JULIA**

Pulling Julia along behind him, Mark exited the alleyway on the other side of the building, feeling just a little bit out of his league with what just happened. All the while, Julia was telling him to stop and tell what's going on; what had happened and what he was doing, etc. It wasn't safe to do that in the alleyway with Sam and Julian in the next street, so he told her that he'd explain it all once they were safe. Catching the confession on tape was an extraordinary thing, because Mark knew Sam and Julian to be meticulous in their attempts for discretion and not drawing attention to themselves. Maybe it was because Julian got caught up in the emotion of it all and had lost all self-restraint on the issue. Doesn't matter anyway, because I doubt either of them was expecting Mark to be hiding close by with his camera pointed in their direction.

"Mark!" Julia pulled her hand away and they both arrived at the main street and slowed down. She rested against the building's wall to catch her breath, as did Mark, who peered around the corner to make sure they hadn't caught Sam and Julian's attention. Luckily, everything was clear and they seemingly hadn't notice. All the while, Julia was glaring menacingly at Mark, pissed off that she was being pulled around like that and not being told what was going on.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "What was that about?"

"That," Mark breathed. "Was the first step of bringing those two assholes down."

"What!"

"I just caught a confession."

"WHAT!"

"Is that all you say?"

In disbelief, Julia's confusion bore a frowned expression on her face. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, like I'd lie about something like this," he replied sarcastically. "Now the cops are gonna have to do something…"

"What exactly did he say?"

"He said he did it. And the sick bastard actually enjoyed it!" Mark slammed his fist against the wall in a rare display of anger, but really only showed a hint of the rage that had flared up inside him. How someone could enjoy inflicting pain and watching another human being gag and struggle for every breath while he tried not to drown in his own blood, was beyond all human comprehension. Instead of getting all the rage out, Mark yelled out in pain and almost dropped his camera (and his evidence) – leaning against the wall and clutching his hand to his chest, groaning in pain, it was enough for Julia to let go of her pretenses and go to his aid.

"Idiot," she muttered and touched his arm and pulled it to her to inspect the wound. She could see a small cut had opened up and blood was spilling out. Instinctively more sensitive to her touch, Mark pulled away and resisted a little. Julia rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Come on, don't be a baby." She wouldn't have been surprised if he had broken a bone or something with the force he had punched the wall. Pouting, Mark winced and allowed her to take his hand in her own. She was gentle with the touch and saw a small bruise developing at the point of immediate impact – Julia took a few moments to carefully inspect his hand before looking back up at him. "I don't think it's broken. Wanna go to the hospital? Get it checked anyway?"

"Nah I'll live," Mark replied through gritted teeth and cringed when Julia touched the wound. "This is getting too complicated…"

"What is?" she asked, taking a small pack of tissues from her bag. Removing one and placing it to the cut and watching it soak up a bit of blood, Julia smiled sympathetically. "It'll get better, you know…"

"Not for Angel and Collins."

"I admit I don't know you all that well… except Tom… but it seems that they really love each other. They'll get through it."

"If Angel lives."

"He will."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because! I just do! Honestly, do you think he would've come through all of this alive, just to die _now_? I don't think God's that cruel."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "You believe in God?"

"Don't you?"

"I…" he paused. "Don't know. I guess. Doesn't seem like He's around much though…"

"Well I'm not the religious sort," Julia said. "But I guess I do believe. Gotta have something to believe in, right? You believe?"

"Oh I believe."

"In God?"

"In my friends. Love. Friendship. Pathetic, I know… but I at least can see that those things exist. God, I'm not too sure about."

Julia chuckled. There was a lot of wisdom in that notion… a lot of _misconception_, too. But nevertheless, given the life Mark and his friends lead, it wasn't all too surprising. "You grew up in a religious home, too right?" she guessed.

"How'd you—"

"Trust me. I know the feeling. My mom's a total catholic… when I was sixteen she found two condoms in my purse. You can imagine what happened… that's the day I was determined not to make religion the sole reason for living, you know?"

Julia let go of his hand and Mark took over nursing his wound. He looked at her with curiosity… what the hell was it about this girl?

"So what was your vice? Catholic?"

"Jewish."

"Ahh… so you understand my pain…" she smiled, charmingly. Mark couldn't resist a small laugh and shook his head in disbelief of this young woman. No wonder Collins and Julia got along so well – they were definitely alike. Both warm. Loving. Big-hearted. Loyal. Caring. And they always had the ability to make people smile no matter what… and now, in the face of Collins' pain, Julia's presence was probably more of a good, positive thing than anything else.

"Didn't think a girl like you would be carrying condoms around," Mark smirked. "Doesn't seem real… _becoming_ of you."

"What are you saying, Mark?" she taunted back, challengingly.

"Nothing! Nothing at all!"

His smile fading, Mark looked around at the bustling environment – people going about their daily business, not having a care for anything other than what they were supposed to be doing. Then, a thought dawned on him as he remembered an event that had happened almost two years earlier… something that had brought New York attention to the East Village, all thanks to Maureen. The protest. The riot. An idea presented itself that could turn out to be very useful…

"Let's go…" he told her, not thinking about it as he grabbed her hand and gently pulled her in the direction of the loft.

"Where?"

"I need to make a phone call."

"To who?"

"No one you know."

**BACK WITH COLLINS AND ANGEL**

The sobs were painful for Angel to have to listen to… he wanted to shake Collins by the shoulders or slap him, or do something to shut him up. Well… there were also a lot of _other_ things he wanted to do to him, if you know what I mean, but uh… that would require a bit of physical rehabilitation. Instead, he had to lay there and be mercilessly subjected to the pain that was felt by the man he adored – he hated it! Once again he worked up the strength to open his eyes and that's when he really saw the pain that Collins was feeling – tears streaming down his lover's face one right after the other, in rivers of emotion that dripped onto the blankets and onto his arm.

"Angel…" Collins continued to sob uncontrollably and then rested his head lightly on Angel's stomach. "Please wake up. At least… at least let me tell you how much I love you… at least let me know that you know that. Any sign… give me anything. Please!"

Angel couldn't take anymore… the medication, the numbness, and the fatigue not withstanding, he forced himself to lift one hand just enough to bring it across his body (mind you, this one act was taking a hell of a lot out of him), and lightly, he placed his hand on Collins' head, stroking just behind his ear. Collins looked up, startled at the sudden touch, and his eyes widened with shock when he saw Angel's eyes barely open and staring sadly down at him. Shaking badly, he sat up and touched Angel's cheek again, not sure if this was real… if he was really awake.

"A—Angel?" he stuttered, confused and stunned.

Angel couldn't move his head or make any sound, but he continued to stare into Collins' eyes – though everything was blurred and not clear at all, he just stared sadly. He couldn't even managed a smile, as breathing tubs were stuck in his throat and the numbness surrounding his throat and mouth was something that was not to be overcome. Giving the fact that he had just come out of surgery only some two hours earlier, the fact that he was awake now was an extraordinary thing… since he had been doped up enough to keep him out for the rest of the day and night.

Collins let his fingers glide over Angel's lips, up to his eyes which he could see were wet with tears and an acute sadness in which Collins had never seen in his boyfriend before. Basically, it was like a sledgehammer to the heart.

"Angel…" he whispered. "My Angel… oh God… baby… you… you're awake!"

Again, no smile. No physiological reaction… just those beautiful eyes. After everything they had been through together, Angel just has to give him that one look to settle the pain in him, and Collins knew that all was forgiven – that there was no hate. Collins leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips, not knowing whether or not Angel could actually feel it – but he did.

**WITH MARK AND JULIA**

Shifting her weight back and forth on each leg, Julia impatiently stood on one of the steps that led to the loft, just feet away from where Mark was making a phone call at the phone booth. Apparently he had a good idea about something – something he wouldn't share with her, but he was psyched about it… a little too excited regarding something that was so dangerous and sad. However, he seemed amazingly self-assured about it and she watched him punch in a number from which he had read off a scrunched up scrap piece of paper he had pulled from his pocket.

"Are you ever gonna tell me what you're doing?" she asked, lazily. "You know, I _was_ supposed to be heading to the hospital to see Collins. This little detour isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Shh."

"Oh 'Shh' yourself."

Mark gave her a look that was saying for her to shut up while he did his thing. Whatever he was doing, it was serious. For Mark, it seemed like a brilliant solution to a situation which didn't have many likeable solutions, something that Julia wouldn't yet be able to understand but which he'd explain to her when he was done. Turning back to face the phone itself, Mark impatiently drummed on the side of it with his fingers. Then, after around five or six rings, someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Alexi Darling?"

"Yes?"

"Uh, hi," he proceeded cautiously. "It's Mark Cohen."

"Mark!" Alexi squealed with unusual excitement when she learned who it was. She had been working to get him to sign a contract in which he always strongly resisted now… he wasn't about to sell out to anyone. But maybe – just _maybe­_ – there would be some use in Alexi's journalistic expertise for what he wanted to do… the media could be a very useful medium at time and this could be something that may require the use of a media projection.

"Mark Cohen? So _wonderful_ to hear from you! How've you been?"

"Um… getting by—"

"GOOD! Good, that's good to hear. I'm sorry, but after our last conversation I didn't think I'd be hearing from you again…"

"Trust me, neither did I," he muttered under his breath. The look on his face caused Julia to stifle a laugh that caught in her throat.

"What?" she didn't catch that last part.

"Nothing. Uh, look, I need to ask a favour…"

"A favour?" she sounded perplexed, to say the least.

"Yeah. Is there any chance we could meet up today, at the Life Café?"

"Well, I… don't know. Why? What's up?"

"It's something I think will be better discussed in person. Can you make it?"

Alexi frowned, and flipped through her day planner that was lying open on her desk. Mark, in her mind, was a talent she couldn't pass up – his footage of the riot was amazing and since then she has been trying to convince him to work for her network. Like I said, Mark and all of them were firmly opposed to selling out to anyone… but this may be a time that calls for it.

"I guess I could squeeze you in. The Life Café, you say?"

"Yeah. It's important."

"Well… okay, okay. Sure! I'll be there!"

"Great. One hour."

Without waiting for her to say anything, and definitely not saying 'goodbye', Mark slammed down the phone and turned to see Julia give him a knowingly look.

"What?"

"Who was that? An ex-girlfriend?" she queried.

Why would she care?

"No! God no! Why do you ask?" Mark felt like slapping her for that remark, as bad as it sounds.

"The look on your face. Like you swallowed acid or something."

"Ha, ha," he replied. "You're funny."

"Oh I know."

"Bitch."

"Uh-huh! So who is she?"

"Does it matter?"

"You sound bitter…"

He rolled his eyes and started walking away. "You coming?"

"Oh come on! You're not mad!" she called after him, standing her ground and folding her arms in front of her.

"Yeah, yeah!" he didn't turn around and Julia pouted before running to catch up with him. Things were about to get a _lot_ more interesting, that much she knew for sure.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ In the next chapter, Mark meets up with Alexi. He then finds Roger and confides in him of this new development which all of them vow to keep secret from Collins for the time being. Julia and Mark become closer. Collins is confronted by one of his superiors from MIT and is given an ultimatum… forcing him to do something, in which he turns into the ultimate act of love.**


	19. Chapter 19

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 19**

**_SUMMARY:_ In this chapter, Mark meets up with Alexi Darling. Mark and Julia grow closer. Collins is confronted by a superior from MIT who gives him a harsh ultimatum… which would once again tear him from Angel's bedside. I think this chapter will be a bit unusual and not what you might expect of our bohemians, but trust me it'll all make sense in the end – everything has a point and purpose in the story.**

_**Oh, and I have a few people to thank for their constant reviewing and giving the constructive criticism I need to keep growing and developing as a writer. So, in no particular order I must thank:**_

**Eponine Poe**

**L.M. Ward**

**Phoenix-Satori10 (Daina, you rock, hunni! LATINO HEAT LIVES ON!)**

**Marauding-siriusly**

**To No Absolutes**

**Angelover609**

**Alice Midnight; and**

**LLPotter**

**_Thanks so much for the reviews and very kind words. You all have no idea how much I appreciate it. Thanks! Massive hugs all around If I've missed anyone out, I'm sorry. Just know I appreciate the kind words and constructive criticism._**

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Mark and Julia sat in the Life Café, waiting for Alexi Darling to show up. So far, she was almost ten minutes late and Mark was already getting antsy – Julia found it amusing at how he was acting to all of this, even though she really shouldn't be. He was trying to do the right thing for his friends and get justice for them when the law turned a blind eye and tried to sweep them all under the proverbial rub. Mark was just sick of the bullshit that went on, and was sick of being treated like a second class citizen, so he had enough – that, and he had been extremely lucky to catch that confession on tape, and was planning to use it to their advantage. Ever since this who episode played out, it had been Sam and even Julian who had the upper hand on how things turned out, but now Mark was determined to see fit that it changes and to see, if anything, street justice prevail where the criminal justice system did not.

He sipped his diet coke and looked out the window, stretching a little to see if Alexi's car had pulled up, and as of yet, it hadn't. _Where the hell is she?_ He wondered, and with every passing moment he became more agitated with Alexi. Mark never liked that woman, or her sleazy show 'Buzzline', and it sickened him that he had to resort to these measure, but any sort of advantage that could be taken of this position was gonna be considered. Even if it meant making a deal with the devil.

"Mark, calm down," Julia tried. "She'll be here."

He had explained to her who Alexi Darling was and their history; about the riot and his view on her show, and why he was so annoyed by this whole process. It's not that he hated Alexi or anything – just the principles she supposedly represented and what kind of show she worked for, that's all. And it wasn't just Mark; it was a lot of the community he lived in, so at least now Julia had an understanding as to why he was so resistant. You may be wondering what's happening between these two and the truth it… nothing. At least, not yet. Who knows what could happen? I guess there's just an understanding between them and a sense of attraction from the curiosity they sparked in each other. They were complete opposites, but had similar understandings. That really was an odd thing, but nevertheless Mark was focused on getting Sam and Julian and nothing or no one would deter him from that goal… at least, so he thought. Maybe.

He glanced at her, not sharing her optimism, and shook his head.

"Yeah, well it's not like I'm gonna enjoy this…"

"Why?"

"It's selling out."

"What?"

Mark sighed and turned his body so he could face her more comfortably, and leaned against the side of the seat. "You honestly don't get it, do you?"

"Well, why don't you explain it to me then?" she replied, prepared to fight him about it. Julia really didn't give a damn what he thought about her or her background, but she wanted to learn about his own – his and his friends'. All inspired by the time she spent with Professor Collins, Julia felt a sense of responsibility for convincing him to go make amends with his lover and then all this happening as a result. "I can't 'get it' unless you tell me." Mark detected a bit of sarcasm and bitterness in her tone and decided not to bait her any further.

"Look, what you gotta know is that _here_ it's all about where your next meal is coming from. Whether you're gonna have heat or gonna freeze to death. Following your dreams yet all the while getting kicked down and ridiculed for having those dreams… people like Alexi Darling… they do good for us sometimes. You know, getting the 'plight' out there… but it's usually for no other reason than ratings and money – people wanna hear about the bohemians causing trouble again, and then get to condemn us for not being as successful or responsible or whatever… you know what I'm saying? It can give people like _us_ bad reputations… for as long as I can remember we were treated as the outcasts. The social failures. The waste on society. And now, it's getting to the point that our community can stand up and say that we're an 'us' not 'them'… and it's hard. It's not a life you'd want, Julia…"

He was tired of explaining it to her but she seemed to be getting it – Mark couldn't blame her for wanting to know more about it. It was obvious to him that she didn't fit in her own world and so desperately wanted to fit into his, where she'd probably be more accepted after a while.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I don't mean to rant. It's just hard for someone from where _you're_ from to really get it. I mean _really_ understand it."

"I know," she replied. "Honestly, you don't gotta apologise. But I want to understand. Collins, he – he did a lot for me. And it's been real hard for him to adjust back at MIT; I'm guessing that ever since he met Angel… I don't know… but he doesn't seem comfortable there anymore… I consider him a friend and it's hard to be there for a friend when you don't understand where they're coming from. Literally."

"So you came here to understand him better?"

"No. I came here to understand what was so important to him that would make him so upset... And now I know… I think I understand. Can't say I blame him either." She sipped her drink, thoughtfully.

"Why?"

Julia looked up. "Because, I come here and I see how different it is… you all don't have much, except each other. And you're all happy… content… you live life based on love and friendship and I can't think of anything to live for that's greater than that."

Their eyes connected and for that split second, Mark saw who Julia really was… as corny as that sounds, it's true. She spoke with sincerity and passion, telling him that she could be trusted, and with hope which told him she wanted to experience it for herself. So it's no wonder why he thought she must be crazy… or at least, seriously misinformed.

"Let me tell you something, Mark," she continued. "You try living up to everyone's expectations of being perfect, everyday, and you'll see it's not so easy living my life either. I don't have to wonder where my next meal is coming from… but I do gotta wonder who my real friends are at time – and where my next real friend is gonna come from."

He hadn't thought of it like that, but then again he wouldn't, because he's never experienced _her_ life…

"Well we all got our problems."

"Yes we do!" an excited, familiar, and very annoying voice broke their conversation, and both of them looked up simultaneously and Mark recognized Alexi as she slid into the chair across from them, smiling charmingly and placed her handbag on the chair beside her.

"Hey, Mark!"

"Hi, Alexi," Mark replied with less enthusiasm. "This is Julia, a… friend of a friend."

"Ahh," Alexi winked. "Say no more." She turned to Julia and stuck her hand out – Julia could see why Mark wasn't so happy to see this Alexi Darling person. She seemed way too… happy. Fake.

"Hi, I'm Alexi Darling from—"

"Buzzline, I know." Julia replied with a half-hearted smile.

"Oh, you've seen the show?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Look," Mark took over. "We don't have time for any small talk, Alexi, so about this favour with need."

Alexi's smile grew even wider. "Why such the rush, Mark?"

"Because our friend is dying in the hospital and this has gotta be done right away."

"Oh…" once again, Alexi was put in her place. Clearly, neither Mark nor his lady friend was in the mood for small talk, and with the deadly serious look on their faces, she decided not to 'tempt fate'.

"Well, um… okay. What's this favour you need?"

**30 MINUTES LATER**

Alexi shook Mark's hand and left hurriedly, without so much as another word as their agreement was set in place. The deal was, Mark would give her a copy of the confession of two drug dealers confessing to murder, and she would air it should Sam and Julian refuse to make the confession to the cops. If they didn't, Mark would sign the rights to the footage over to Alexi and let her do what she pleases with it… so blackmail wasn't usually Mark's choice of activity, but for Angel's sake and the sake of his friends, he would do what it'd take to make those bastards pay for what they did. As Mark explained to her what had happened, Alexi furiously took notes and then signed one her self, guaranteeing him that she wouldn't use the tape for her show until his authorization came through. If Sam and Julian were gonna pay, they would do it on _his_ terms only…

Luckily enough, Alexi had agreed to all his terms – this wasn't about money – for she was as horrified as any of them when she learned what happened to Angel. Mark gave her a full rundown on who Collins and Angel are their relationship, etc., however held off giving too much information away. Alexi agreed to hold off until Mark gave her the go ahead to air the footage – until then, Mark decided to tell the others (except Collins) about what happened, and what he was intending to do… there's no way he would confront Sam and Julian on his own.

Julia was impressed with the way Mark handled himself during this time, and not only did Alexi get a good idea of what had been happening, but she did as well… needless to say, she was shocked and horrified. What Angel and Collins must have gone through is absolutely unthinkable, unbearable pain… and you know what? If they could survive all this together, then they really would be the true definition of pure, true love.

She and Mark both stood up and left the Life Café and walked out onto the main street.

"So what now?" Julia asked, wrapping her arms around her waist to preserve some heat. Seeing her discomfort, Mark immediately removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. At the gesture, Julia felt her face getting red and turned away so he couldn't see her blushing.

"Back to the hospital. Gotta tell the others… you can go see Collins… but I gotta tell the others."

"Then what?"

He sighed. "Pay a little visit to Sam and Julian I guess…"

She turned back to him, finding herself worried that he would put himself in harms way – that was not the kind of reaction she was expecting of her self.

"Why not go straight to the cops?"

"Like I said before, Julia… you don't get it. They're not interested. Sam and Julian are major drug dealers, gun runners… if the tape gets aired, their 'business clients' are gonna scatter and take their business elsewhere… and besides. I trust the cops about as much as I trust Sam. They have to follow procedures; rules… by the time they get around to an arrest, Angel might be dead. We'll give Sam and Julian the chance to go to the cops and tell them everything. Otherwise, I'm gonna call Alexi and she'll air the tape."

It sure wasn't Mark-like behavior to act like this… but too much had happened and he and his friends had been betrayed by the cops long enough. They don't give a damn. Angel was almost dead because they never bothered to investigate why he was there in the first place. No… there's no more faith left in the justice system. Not, at least, from our bohemians.

"Come on. We gotta go."

**WITH COLLINS AND ANGEL – 4:45PM**

Angel had fallen asleep again after staying awake about two minutes longer; the look in his eyes told his lover that he was fighting with every bit of his body and more importantly, that he still loved him more than anything. That was all the assurance Collins had needed, who then encouraged Angel to go back to sleep before informing the medical staff of the miracle that had just occurred… and they were all pretty stunned to see that he had woken up just hours after major surgery – and Emily had suggested that it was the strength of the love between Collins and Angel that had drawn him back from the brink of death. Collins couldn't help but wonder if that _was_ a possibility, but it didn't matter anymore… Angel's vital signs were stable, only slightly improving, and the hospital director, not wanting a huge scene to be made of this, offered complete counseling to both him and Angel, which he readily accepted. Suing the hospital was an option, but neither Angel nor Collins or any of them were the kind of people to go through that process. Like I said, it didn't matter at this point… Angel was alive and that's all that mattered.

Now, Collins was sitting next to the bed after promising Angel that he wouldn't let go of him, and he didn't. He held his angel's hand in his own, stroking the bandaged hand and whispering soft, loving words – knowing full well he could hear him. Even after being raped and beaten almost into a coma by Samuel, and then almost bled to death after having his throat slit open by Julian… there was still life in him. _STILL_ Angel's spirit couldn't be defeated, and maybe that was due to the love he held with Collins that kept him so strong – but either way, Angel wasn't broken. And he wouldn't be.

In case you're wondering what happened with Roger, Mimi, Maureen, and Joanne, they had returned to see Collins smiling and he gave them the good, well… more _positive_ news about Angel waking up. You can imagine the reaction. Now, Mimi had fallen asleep on Roger's lap who was sitting in the chair on the opposite side of Angel's bed, and Maureen was outside with Joanne, talking about something… Joanne was again, pissed off about something that Collins didn't know the details of. Where Mark was, none of them knew, but hoped he would return soon.

"So Angel didn't do anything when he woke up?" Roger kept his tone low and stroked his girl's hair.

Collins shook his head. "No. He just stared at me. It's weird… that look on his face… was so peaceful."

"After what he's been through…" Roger shook his head in disbelief. "Don't know how he does it."

"Angel's all about love… no room for evil or hate in that heart of his."

"What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"How you doing?"

Collins shrugged. "Better, I guess. Not until he can smile again will I be happy."

Roger turned to look at the door, wanting to know where his friend had got to. "Do you have _any_ idea where Mark's got to?"

"Nope."

"How longs he been gone?"

"No idea."

"Collins!"

"He was here earlier; he said he was going back to the loft… you know Mark and his camera. He probably got distracted or something."

"Well, with Sam and Julian still lurking out there, don't you think—"

"What I think? I don't think even Sam and Julian are stupid enough to go after anyone of you. I know Sam best, trust me… he's not that stupid. Look, I don't know what to tell you. He'll be back man, chill!"

Roger wasn't usually worried, but he had a bad feeling… things had been very bad this past week, and his desire to slice Sam open was as present as ever, but now he didn't trust any of his friends out there alone with Sam and Julian looking over their shoulders. Little did he know of Mark's recent developments… well, he soon would know. Still, not wanting to move and disturb Mimi, he resigned himself to the uneasy idea that Mark was off doing his own thing with that damn camera.

Collins looked back at Angel who didn't look like he was gonna be moving or waking up anytime soon, and that was probably for the best given the pain he would most likely be in when he woke up. At that moment, no more medication could be administered because otherwise it'd be considered dangerous, and thus would have to wait for him to wake up. It was an ironic thing… Angel has AIDS, but most likely he'd die from injuries he sustained by someone who contracted the virus from his form and Angel's current lover… it was a mangled moral mind game that would probably destroy the first person who blinked.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" Collins suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Me coming back. You think it was a mistake?"

"All I know is everything's gone to hell since you left."

"You didn't answer my question."

"What does it matter what my opinion is?" Roger replied, testily. "You never cared what anyone thought, before…"

"First of all, you're my best friend. Second… I hurt everyone. Didn't mean to. I guess I just couldn't stand to see anything or anyone that reminded me of Angel. Including New York."

Collins rubbed his thumb across the back of Angel's hand, hoping he could feel him there.

"It's over, Tom," Roger said. "It's done with. Forget it… you and Angel still got time."

"It's not enough."

"No kidding. I don't know _what_ to tell you."

"Tell me what I wanna hear… that might be a start."

Roger laughed. "Yeah, it seems like that's what's got you in trouble in the first place."

"No," Collins insisted. "_Lying_ got me into trouble in the first place."

"That and sleeping with your ex-boyfriend."

Both men let the conversation die there and knew what would happen if either went to pursue it any further, and Collins didn't want to revisit his screw ups that almost led to the love of his life's death… twice.

Then, a knock came at the door and both of them looked up and to Roger, the man standing there was unfamiliar… but to Collins, the person was recognized immediately at Devon McAdams was standing in the door – a middle aged man in his late forties, balding, and a little overweight was looking not at all too happy as he was glaring very darkly at the disheveled-looking professor sitting before him._ Fuck_! He thought and stood up, letting go of Angel's hand.

"Uh, Devon!" he addressed his superior. Devon was the head of the Computer Sciences department at MIT, and immediately Collins knew why he was there – he hadn't submitted his final exam plan for the students, and had missed two very important meetings. Devon walked into the room and around the side of the bed, totally ignoring the other three people (including the patient) who were in the room too. Roger kept silent. "Wh… what are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" the man replied, angrily. "I have been trying to get in contact with you for the past week! I've received disturbing information that you deliberately took a student out, in your own car, and have a personal relationship with her! Not only that, but you're exams are way past due, and you've missed the meetings, and we have a situation with Professor Davidson! Then, as I sit down to dinner with my family last night, I get a call from Professor Martin who directs me to turn on the television, in which I see a news story from New York City about an attack in a hospital – and to my absolute shock, I see you on screen arguing with a police officer!"

The man finished his rant, looking very flushed in the face – his cheeks was puffed up and red; his eyes were ablaze… if he had the authority to, he'd fire Collins right there on the spot. Meanwhile, Collins and Roger were just staring at him – stunned. Roger felt out of place and wanted to leave them to their little argument, but for Collins' sake he stayed…

"Now, Tom," Devon continued. "You're gonna tell me what's going on, or so help me God I will have you up in front of the board, _TOMORROW_!"

Collins, in any other circumstances, wouldn't be trembling and as fearful as he was now – Devon never really liked him to begin with, because Devon came from a rich background, etc., and really didn't think to highly of Collins' recommendations (or the fact that he came from the East Village in New York City). But they got on as professional colleagues as best as they could. Now, realizing that he was serious with his threat, there was a good chance that Collins would have to come out about everything – his relationship with Angel, what happened with Sam and Julian, the AIDS, etc… everything. Given the conservative nature of the Board of Directors, he knew that none of it would sit too well with them… and he'd face being fired _again_. But he had been fired from there before, so that wasn't concerning – but if he was, for the reasons above, then his ability to get another credible teaching job would be severely restricted. Nervously, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Devon," he began, taking a deep breath. "This _really_ isn't a good time or place… I'll explain it all later."

"No, you'll explain it now!" his colleague hissed. "And these allegations about you and Ms. Julia Sampson will not go by unnoticed!"

That was funny. Both Roger and Collins had to try with all their might not to laugh of that, and Devon became even more enraged when he saw a small smile tugging at the corner's of Collins' lips.

"Do you think this is funny, Professor!"

Collins let out a small, pitiful laugh. If only he knew. "Okay, look… you got it all wrong, man. Julia is just a student is all. I took her to the convention last week because she had no other way to get there. Secondly… who the hell gave you the idea that I'm having a relationship with her!"

"That's none of your concern!"

"Oh I think it is," Collins scoffed and challenged him. "Given that these 'allegations' are completely false, I think I should know…"

"I don't think so. Now you better start talking or—"

"Or what?" he snapped. "Get me fired? Is that it? Devon, I've already been down that road before; it doesn't scare me."

"This time it'll be for good. And should these allegations about you and Ms. Sampson prove true, as I don't believe you, then I'll personally be making sure that you face civil and criminal charges."

"For what! She's twenty-two!" not to mention the fact that he's gay. He didn't need the judgment of this asshole, and certainly Angel didn't need to be looked down upon with contempt while he was struggling to get life into him self.

"For a breech of contract! Now, Professor, you must hand over your exam plan. And I am willing to put this all down to _personal_ issues," Devon glanced down at Angel. "And that you've had a lot on your mind… and the Board is willing to overlook your indiscretions, if and only if Julia's story holds to your own – and that you replace Professor Davidson at the MIT Conference tomorrow."

Collins frowned and reached into the bag that was just next to the bed, and pulled out the final exam he had somehow managed to prepare for his students, and handed it to Devon. "Why? What happened?"

Devon sighed, and for the first time he noticed Roger staring at him with a dumbfounded expression on his face, but paid him no special attention. His eyes locked with his colleagues.

"A family emergency on the west coast. A family member passed away and we need someone to quickly fill in and give a speech at the conference. The university is holding a republican benefit for students, their families, and contributors to the university tomorrow night. I volunteered you."

"ME!" Collins cried, exasperated. Again, Roger had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing hysterically. Getting Collins to speak at _republican_ conference! You gotta be kidding! "Why? Devon, I got too much to handle right now… Angel is—" he stopped himself before getting too far ahead. He didn't want to reveal too much to this idiot.

"This is Angel?" Devon looked down at the heavily sedated young man in the bed, and eyed him suspiciously. "Who is he?"

"He's none of your business, _sir_." Collins replied with bitterness. "And I'm not speaking anywhere. I'm not leaving his side." He could visibly see Devon's muscles tensing up with anger, however stood his ground.

"This is non-negotiable Professor. You will report to the auditorium at 6:30 tomorrow night," he then turned around and walked back to the door. When he reached the doorway, he turned around again, and added…

"Be assured now, Tom. We will be talking with Julia, and her story better match yours…" he then left Roger and Collins in a state of shock and confusion – neither could register what had just happened. Collins sat down and placed his head in his hands, sighing miserably… why did this shit keep happening to him? There's no way that he'd leave Angel's side now, but… if he _didn't_ go, then he could kiss any chances at another job goodbye. Of course, Angel was way more important to him than some stupid job, but the practical side of Collins' mind had also been kicked into motion now and he didn't need it. Roger shook his head in disbelief. This was a new situation that he didn't think would happen…

"What are you gonna do?" he asked.

"I'm not going," Collins replied, stubbornly. "My life is here, with Angel and you guys. They can take the job and shove it up their ass… if they can first remove the very pronounced pole that's already stuck up there."

He looked at Angel, knowing that whatever he did, it would be beneficial to them both… and right now, that meant staying right where he was. There's no other place he'd rather be.

"I'm not leaving him again."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, what are the odds you're gonna find anymore work if they fire you?"

"I don't care, Rog. I lost Angel once, I won't do it again… ever." Collins' loyalty was admirable to Angel and his friends, but there were circumstances that would soon force him back out of New York City. He leaned down and kissed Angel's cheek tenderly… "This is where I belong, man… not MIT. Not Massachusetts. Here."

"I get it." Then, Roger remembered something. "Hey, why didn't you tell him you're gay? You never used to be so… in the closet… about it."

"Honestly, I don't need his homophobic, judgmental crap and neither does Angel. Besides… come on, it was funny."

Roger chuckled and nodded in agreement. "Yeah. But still. If they're investigating you…"

"Like the man said, Julia has to back up the story and she will. There's nothing there man, she's the wrong gender!"

"It could get messy."

"Messier than this?"

"Good point."

"And anyway… Julia's got her thing for Mark."

"Yeah, true. So what now?"

"What now? Nothing," Collins told him firmly. "Like you said. It's done with."

"What was all that hating going between you and that guy?"

Collins took the soda can off the side table and sipped it and hesitated in answering… the animosity between him and Devon wasn't much of a secret among the faculty or student body at MIT, but really it was nothing. He was different. He didn't fit in with Devon's ideologies of a competent teacher at an esteemed institution.

"It's nothing, really. Nothing I can't handle."

Sensing his friend's lack of willingness to talk about it, Roger dropped the subject though remained cautiously skeptical of what Collins was hiding. "Whatever, man. You know I got your back though, right? We all do."

Collins smiled when he said that – he had his friends back, and it was refreshing, after so long of having to go through self-pity and self-torture for what he did to them. To have his friends forgive him was just as important as having Angel forgive him.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Anytime."

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ In the next chapter, Mark tells Roger and the others of the recent developments and they agree to keep it quite from Collins for the time being. Collins makes a decision as to whether or not to go do this speech. Angel wakes up.**


	20. Chapter 20

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 20**

**_SUMMARY:_ Mark tells the others of the recent developments with Alexi Darling, and they all agree to keep it quiet from Collins (and Angel). Angel wakes up.**

**_Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up – I've been sick and my muse ran away from me on more than one occasion. I'll do better from now on, I promise._**

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Mark and Julia entered the hospital through the emergency department entrance and they both looked around at the busyness of the area – lots of bleeding, sick, and injured people and their families or friends were waiting (both patiently and impatiently) for some sort of medical attention, but with only a few medical personnel that were visibly around to attend to their needs. It was a pitiful sight, and did nothing but force Mark to imagine how the circumstances were in which Angel was admitted. A depressing sight, indeed.

Touching her arm to get her attention, Mark nodded his head in the direction of the elevator, silently telling her to follow him, which she did. The plan was that they were gonna inform the others of the footage and the arrangement Mark and Alexi had made, but both were still unaware that Angel had in fact woken up, nor were they aware of the ultimatum that had been placed at Collins' feet – this would only complicate the situation further.

Julia pushed the button and in silence they waited for the doors to open – Mark looked over at her and visibly inspected her, wondering what was going through her mind. No doubt these past few days and weeks had been a real eye-opening experience, and judging by her reaction in the alleyway, a somewhat terrifying experience as well. Never before had she been exposed to such conditions and realities she had once believed to exist in a world that she was so far away from. Now Julia was shown just how close she, and everyone in general, was to it all… suddenly, everything she learnt and had been taught from those she grew up around seemed so irrelevant and even wrong.

"How you doin'?" Mark asked casually. "You look kinda… lost."

"Hmm?" she snapped back from her thoughts and turned her head in his direction. "What?"

"You look scared. Everything okay?"

"I'm not scared," she brushed off with a weak laugh which didn't entirely convince her self nor Mark. "Um… _overwhelmed_ may be the appropriate word."

Mark shifted his weight and adjusted his backpack strap over his shoulder and continued to study Julia's body language which gave obvious signs that something was troubling her greatly, but she feared to say.

"You sure?" he took care and chose his words carefully. Now wasn't the time to excite her further; she was obviously deeply troubled about something. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Okay." He shrugged and was more than willing to let the subject drop. There was tension between them that hindered Julia's ability to confide in him – she'd much rather do that with Collins, and after all, she didn't know Mark all _that_ well… but given that Collins is not in a position to deal with her issues, she knew she'd eventually force her self to say something to Mark… otherwise she'd explode.

The doors finally opened and Mark stepped aside to let her go in first. Muttering a small 'thanks', Julia hurried into the elevator and made sure not to make eye contact with him. Things between them were already too complicated and weird…

Mark stepped in beside her and the doors closed behind him. He then pushed the button for the appropriate floor and then leaned back against the elevator wall as it started moving in an upward direction. More silence. To Julia, that silence was screaming in her ears and slamming into her mind like a sledgehammer… sighing, frustrated, she turned to him.

"I just don't get how you accept this!"

Mark frowned. "What?"

"This! All of it… I mean, you're friend gets attacked… your other friend is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, you caught a confession on tape… how can you be so calm!"

Mark raised an eye brow and the corners of his mouth began to tug into a small smirk… she really did look totally clueless; it was kinda cute in his opinion.

"You're kidding right?" he responded, incredulously.

"I don't get it…"

"Julia, I told you before… there's nothing new here. All we gotta do is survive it. Angel is the best example of a survivor I think any of us know of. And Collins is stronger because of him… we all are. I don't know what else I can tell ya."

Mark reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a small, friendly smile.

"I doubt even Collins told you the worst of what we've been through, right?"

"He's kinda secretive, yeah," Julia agreed. "But I guess I know why… he had to hide his whole life from the faulty at school. I was the only one who saw how miserable he was."

"How did you manage that?" it was Mark's turn to question. "How'd you see that?"

"Well, he didn't hide it well. I spent so much time with him and stuff; I mean it was pretty obvious. I don't know. He's just so different here… like I don't know him, but I'm still familiar with him," she paused and let out a small, sardonic chuckle. "I know how fucked up that probably sounds…"

Mark shrugged and shook his head. "No I get it. Trust me, around here you'll find things aren't as strange as they may seem anywhere else."

"I gathered that."

"Then you have nothing to worry about." Mark thought for a moment before adding, "You fit in here more than you know."

Julia seemed to relax a bit more at that comment, as if it was some sort of positive reassurance that she was somewhere safe… somewhere comforting… somewhere where she felt most at home.

"I get it; I do… now," she replied. "Where I'm from… no one understands me. But that's nothing compared to the idea that there are people like you out there who society itself doesn't understand. That's gotta suck."

"Not really," Mark smiled. "Never really cared… I don't think any of them did either."

Just then the elevator came to an abrupt halt causing a slight jerking motion in which Julia was forced to grab the hand rail to keep from falling over, and Mark instinctively reached out and gently grabbed her by her shoulders and she held his arm for extra support.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"No problem…"

The doors opened and Julia regained her composure and gave Mark an affirmative smile, letting him know she was okay, and together they stepped off the elevator and into the corridor. It was going into the evening, and fast approaching five-thirty in the afternoon and Mark was already feeling the heaviness of his eye lids, and trying to resist the force that's pulling them closed. Julia walked quickly a few steps behind him and almost jumped back in shock when she felt his warm hand clamp around her wrist and Mark pulled her forward so she walked beside him.

"So what you gonna do first?" she asked, wanting to know his 'plan of action'.

"Tell them," was his instant reply. "See what they wanna do about it…"

"But what about Alexi?"

"What about her?"

"Didn't you say—"

"Look, we'll just take it a step at a time, okay?"

"_Fine_!"

Julia decided not to push it further and trusted Mark's judgment over her own when it came to this matter. Staring intently down the corridor, her heart almost came to a complete stop when she saw someone standing by the pay phone come into focus and the recognition of his face became more evident. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"What is it?" Mark asked, confused, turning around when he realized that she was no longer at his side.

"Fuck!" she hissed and looked around for any hiding spot, but it was too late. Professor Devon McAdams was looking in her direction and had already started towards them both. Mark looked back and forth between her and McAdams as he approached confused at Julia's startled and even borderline horrified expression and was slightly amused by it. But Julia was far from amused and became even more desperate for some sort of escape route – there was only one reason as to why he would be there, and it wasn't that hard to connect the dots… Collins' conduct with her would surely be called into question. McAdams didn't look too pleased.

"Ms. Sampson!"

"Uh…" she looked to Mark for help, but he was just blank as to what was going on. She wasn't gonna get any help from him.

"Professor McAdams… didn't expect you here."

"I could say the same thing about you," he replied with a touch of contempt and narrowed his eyes. "But I won't, since I already have a fair idea as to why you _are_ here…"

Silently, she was struggling to keep her cool under the glaring heat of McAdams' eyes that were locked onto her.

"And what idea is that, sir?" she played naive.

"Professor Collins."

With another quick glance at Mark, Julia felt her heart slamming against her chest with renewed force.

"What about him?"

With a frustrated sigh, Professor McAdams shifted his weight and contained the rage he was feeling.

"Perhaps you and I should go somewhere more _private_ to discuss this matter…"

"No, sir," she replied, firmly. "We can discuss this now. What's the problem?"

"There have been allegations made that you and Professor Collins have engaged in an inappropriate personal relationship, and—"

"What!" Mark suddenly burst out, in shock. No way – he didn't just say that! Both of them just wanted to burst out laughing, and were coming close to doing so. Collins and Julia? Wow… that was just a more shocking idea than it was funny, for obvious reasons. "You gotta be kidding me!"

Devon gave him a dirty look. "Who is this?" he asked Julia.

"He's a friend, _sir_," Julia gained more confidence by the second. Mark would back her up if she needed it.

"And those allegations are totally ridiculous! The Professor and I are just friends is all. To say that anything inappropriate—" she stopped to keep herself from losing control. Now, she was just more pissed off that such assumptions would be made and allegations made against her friend.

"Sir," she started again… this time, slightly calmer. "I assure you, Tom Collins and I are just friends; he's helped me out through some personally hard times, that's all. We consider each other _friends_ only. Besides, he's—!"

"Julia!" Mark quickly interjected, staring her down. She could see the slight shaking of his head and knew what he meant…

Devon raised an eyebrow.

"He's _what_, Ms. Sampson?"

"He's, um…" she stumbled on her own words. "He's already involved with someone anyway. But again there is _nothing_ there!"

The look on the Professor's face told them both that he didn't really believe her, but he didn't have a choice but to _not_ pursue the issue, given that there was no evidence suggesting any conduct that was unprofessional on the part of his colleague. And that pissed him off. He wanted just one _tiny_ reason to get rid of Collins… he never like him and his totally un-conservative attitude and theories. Instead he just shook his head.

"Ms. Sampson, you and I will need to talk further about this," he warned. "This isn't going to be let go quite so easily."

"Well you do what you gotta do, sir. Waste you're time and investigate. There's nothing there… so whatever vendetta you got against Tom, you can just _shove it_!" she replied, in an equally dark tone, and stepped around him and walked away. Mark quickly followed, and they both left Professor McAdams standing there, dumbfounded and stewing in his own anger.

"What the hell was that about?" Mark demanded to know as they rounded the corner on their way to find their friends. "Who's he?"

"A professor at MIT."

"Oh. What's going on between him and Collins?"

"McAdams is ultra-conservative. You do the math."

"He doesn't know Collins is gay?"

"Nope. Which begs the questions – why did you stop me from telling him?"

"I just figured that if he _didn't_ know… which apparently he didn't… then it's not your place to say a damn thing about it."

"True…"

Mark eyed her, cautiously. "You okay?"

"What?"

"You seem pretty shaken up that's all."

"I'm fine, Mark. Really. Just not looking forward to seeing the condition Angel's in."

"Yeah, I know. It's pretty bad."

A few moments later, they approached Angel's room to see Maureen and Joanne sitting just outside – Maureen was sleeping, with her head on her girlfriend's shoulder, while Joanne was silently flipping through a magazine, but looked up when she heard footsteps approaching, and smiled when she recognized Mark.

"Hey!" she greeted them, putting the magazine down, but didn't stand up. "Where've you been?"

"Everywhere," Mark replied, dejectedly. "And nowhere. Seriously, long story… I'll tell ya later… Did we miss anything special?"

"Umm… you could say that," she replied and then looked past him at Julia. "Hey… Julia, right?"

"Yeah."

"Hey… Collins has been asking about you."

Julia put her bag down on a chair. "He has?"

"Yeah. You guys missed some action…"

"How's Angel?" Mark remembered his immediate concern. Joanne's face softened and she then seemed saddened… uncertain.

"He woke up."

"What!"

"Don't," she held her hands up defensively. "Don't get too excited… he's asleep again. He could only open his eyes, he couldn't move because of the anesthesia or whatever. But he's stable, the doctors say. Waking up was a good sign."

"How's Collins?" Julia also queried, looking over at the closed door to Angel's room. "How's he doing?"

"Not good," Joanne admitted. "Roger and Mimi came out about five minutes ago… they're down at the cafeteria… apparently something went down with one of Collins' colleagues or whatever… a guy came out of the room a few minutes before them, he seemed pissed off…"

Julia's breath caught in her throat and a sudden urge of anger swept through her body for Devon McAdams and the insensitivity of that son of a bitch for what was going on.

"That fucker…" she muttered. Her anger wasn't lost on Mark or Joanne, and they glanced nervously at each other. She looked up.

"What happened?"

"Roger said something about Collins having to give a speech or whatever… that MIT suspects something is going on between him and you," Joanne told Julia. "Roger and Mimi said he seems pretty shaken up about it… he wants to be alone with Angel for a bit."

"No kidding," Mark agreed. "Roger and Mims are in the cafeteria?"

"Uh-huh…"

Mark thought on the spot for a moment… things were gonna get even worse for Collin and Angel should they know what he and Julia had been through in the past few hours. No… this would have to be concealed from them for now. Well, it's not like Angel could get it anyway, but with Collins it was a different story – he probably wouldn't appreciate this kind of thing right now anyway, even if it meant that Sam and Julian would get what was coming to them.

**MEANWHILE, WITH COLLINS**

Sitting there alone to scuffle through his thoughts and ponder all the available options… normally it would seem like a no-brainer – he wouldn't leave Angel. But there were broader implications to this problem, too… it would be a chance for Collins to finally move on and put the past behind him, including MIT – for him to return to his _home_, where he belonged, with his friends and Angel. And maybe it would let him let go of all the guilt and blame for himself that he had inside, that couldn't and wouldn't dissipate on its own accord unless Collins took some sort of action that would basically liberate him of all the bad decisions and choices he had made during the past few months.

He gently toyed with Angel's fingers in his hand, periodically planting soft kisses on them; feeling the tender soft skin between his lips kept the hope lit in him self that Angel would wake up and recover… that he would come back to them all. He wasn't feeling as heavy anymore, and had wanted to spend more time alone with his lover… it was a peaceful, yet somber, atmosphere in that room, where even more machines and breathing aids were attached to Angel's veins and providing him with the only source of life that his own body would otherwise fail to provide on its own.

Thinking about Devon McAdams' ultimatum, there were pros and cons that were prominent for both scenarios. Collins could go to this republican benefit and give this speech that would pander to the conservative contributors, students, faculty, and board members of MIT… and basically lie through his teeth about politics which 1) he didn't care about, and 2) his whole lifestyle and beliefs were firmly antagonistic to… but it would allow him to put his past_ and_ his guilt behind him and move forward. Or, on the other hand, he could stay with Angel and lose his job while the board launched an investigation into his conduct with Julia, and thus uncover his whole life and background for themselves and thus make assumptions and allegations that would be false and blown out of proportion. But he didn't care what they thought or did… he'd be with Angel no matter what happened. It was a delicate situation no doubt, and there was no other space in his head that focused on anything else but this particular issue. Collins had promised never to leave Angel's side again, nor his friends, especially for the sake of his career… sure he needed the money, but not at the price that it had cost him a few months earlier.

"You don't make this easy, baby…" he whispered to Angel with a small, saddened chuckle.

"It ain't getting any better… you have no idea what you've done to me. Done to us."

Fingering the edge of the soft bandages that were wrapped around the knife wound on Angel's hand, Collins pouted and thought back to the first New Years they had shared together, when Benny had padlocked the loft and Angel broke through it. The strength yet femininity and good-natured humour of his personality that gave them just that little bit more hope for the New Year… Collins could only pray that there was still that strength, after everything, left in him. Even for Angel, it would be hard-pressed to expect him to be as he was… but who knows with our lovely drag queen.

"You gotta come back, Ang," he continued. "I can't do this without you. I told you I wouldn't leave you again; I _promised_ you… but, I… this is the one chance I got left to get us past all of this. Even if it means leaving your side for just a bit—" he stopped himself before he could be totally convinced by his own argument that going ahead with the speech would be the right thing to do.

"I just… I don't know what to do, you know? I mean… fuck!" he cried out, exasperated. "I have no idea…"

He gently brought Angel's hand up to his mouth and kissed it again, in a seductive manner that had always been a favourite tender moment for Angel… a simple gesture that proved love beyond anything and total devotion. Wanting Angel to respond so badly, Collins kept his eyes locked on his bruised, cut, and bandaged face… which was unflinching – not so much as even a muscle twitching or a flicker of the eyelashes.

"Just give me some idea of what to do. Cause honestly, I'm going insane… going insane because I can't hold you like I used to. Can't watch you dance and sing around the loft with the energy of twenty people. Can't see your smile. Can't watch you and Mimi go crazy over your new clothes… Can't kiss you and feel the same passion back. Can't make love to you. And _now_ that asshole of a boss of mine comes here telling me that the only choice I have with them is to leave your side for a cause that goes against everything I am… everything we are. Things couldn't get any worse, right? Everything's so shitty… and it don't seem to be getting any better, baby."

Collins smirked and sat back, yawning. He was certain that Angel could hear every word he was saying, and that was the only sense of comfort he could draw from this miserable situation. "Well whatever happens…"'

Then, he suddenly felt something grasping gently at his hand, and looked down to see Angel's fingers moving slowly across his skin. Feeling somewhat awakened, Collins' eyes widened and he let out a small gasp and pulled his seat closer to the bed.

"Angel! You awake!"

Of course, no verbal or audible sound could Angel make to confirm Collins' hope, except the single movement of his fingers that still felt completely numb because of the intense anesthesia. Angel's eyes started moving, Collins could see, those his eyelids remained closed. Just six hours out of surgery, any sort of movement would only be viewed upon as a positive step… now just how far the recovery would extend was a different question entirely.

"Angel!"

Not being able to think or understand anything around him, there was no possible way Angel could acknowledge the presence of his lover… and it was taking time. But Collins held his breath and tenderly rubbed Angel's chest, careful not to disturb any of the machines or tubes that gave him life.

"Baby? Open your eyes… come on, _something_… let me know you're okay…" Collins was almost pleading for some form of communication from Angel, but it was getting him no where. Minutes passed. Angel continued to move his fingers and struggled to open his eyes, but he was definitely waking up.

"Shit…" Collins looked to the door and debated whether to go get a nurse or a doctor or something. Instead, he stayed glued to Angel's side, holding his hand and whispering comforting, soothing words.

"Come on Ang… come on…" he wetted his dried lips and could feel the sweat dampening his forehead under the glare of the fluorescent light. It was at that moment when the room door opened, and in stepped Emily who wheeled in a small tray of medical instruments, and behind her a middle-aged, friendly-looking doctor came into the room. Collins wiped his eyes and stood up, his attention diverted from Angel's progress. The woman doctor smiled at him.

"Hello, Mr. Collins," she greeted. Emily also said a quick hello, but noticed the distressed look on his face.

"Tom, what's wrong?" she asked.

"He's waking up again," Collins told the doctor, quickly stepping aside and ushering her to Angel's bedside.

"He – he moved his fingers, and his eyes!"

The doctor put the stethoscope to her ears and put the end of it against Angel's chest, carefully listening to the heart beat which was at a normal rate, before taking the stethoscope off and taking a small light from her pocket.

"Since when?" she demanded to know.

"Just a few seconds ago," he replied, needing to sit back down before his legs gave out. "I… I saw it…"

The doctor, Doctor Amelia Patterson, carefully opened Angel's right eye with her fingers and shone the light into it, checking for any signs that Angel was indeed waking. For Angel, all he could see was a blur of white light shining in one of his eyes and he couldn't resist it.

Doctor Patterson then did the same with Angel's other eye and gestured for Emily to hand her a syringe. Emily opened the sterile bag containing the needle and attached it to the main body of the syringe which was filled with a clear substance, all the while Collins was keeping a close eye on what they were doing.

"What's happening!" he asked.

"It's medication… kinda the opposite of a sedative."

"You mean it wakes him up?"

"Not exactly. It's a pain manager while not having the depressive effects of a sedative. I'm surprised he's waking up, so don't be surprised if he falls back asleep… the only time we'll really be able to get an idea if he'll make a full recovery is when he awakes. It'll take some time," Amelia explained and tapped the side of the injection before inserting the needle into the end of one of the small tubes that ran into Angel's vein.

"Is he okay?"

"We'll see…"

Collins fidgeted in his seat and watched to see if there was any sort of physical reaction to what the doctor was doing, however Angel's movement remained very limited. The desire to want Angel to see him and respond to his touches and kisses was overwhelming, and it was painful to see such a beautiful soul so restricted and only alive because of machines…

"Well," the doctor spoke. "He's waking up…"

"Can he hear us? Does he know what's going on?" Collins stood up.

"Well I'm sure he can hear just fine… as far as knowing what's going on, I don't think so. He's heavily medicated. His vitals are fine, so just sit and talk with him," Doctor Patterson instructed, finishing up her physical examination of Angel and then turned around to face Collins.

"It'll help him a lot if you do. I'm sorry, I can't give you any definitive answers just yet. Now it's just a matter of waiting to see what happens."

Not able to speak for fear of breaking down, Collins simply nodded and agreed to her terms, knowing that she made more sense then any of his fucked up ideas or logic. But still… sitting there and just _waiting_ was Angel to either live or die wasn't the most pleasant experience.  
After the doctor and Emily left, Collins sat on the bed again.

"Ang? You hearing me, right? I'm going no where, k?"

Angel's eyes opened ever so slightly, but could see nothing but a haze of colours mixing together.

"Ang? Baby?"

Hearing Collins voice was the only thing keeping him awake, and his lover could see the effort he was putting in to wake up.

Finally, after a few more minutes of struggling against the medicine and his own body's desires to sleep some more, Angel opened his eyes and let them focus. Collins breathed the first sigh of relief in days and relaxed only somewhat, and stared into the dark brown eyes of his lover, but could not read them as he once used to. Angel was, at this moment, unreadable… who knows what this latest tragedy has done to him.

**IN THE CAFETERIA**

Mimi, Roger, Maureen, and Joanne stared at Mark and Julia with blank faces, finding it hard to process the information they had just been given. Mark happened to conveniently catch Julian's confession on tape? What the fuck? That kind of thing only happens in really bad movies, right? But apparently Mark had the goods, and…

"Are you serious?" Roger asked, not wanting to believe it. It couldn't be this simple… Sam and Julian weren't the reckless types, they were always careful…

"I called Alexi Darling at Buzzline," Mark continued, and just as Maureen started to get up and protest, he held his hand up.

"She's just a backup. Guys, we got them _nailed._ I don't see what the problem is."

"Mark, have you considered how _dangerous_ they are?" Joanne pointed out. "I mean, I've dealt with a lot of junkies and drug dealers… when they're cornered… it could make things worse."

"Yeah," Mimi chimed in. "And what'd you think they're gonna do? Roll over and confess?"

Mark had anticipated the hesitation of his friends and they're concerns were justified – Sam can be very dangerous as can Julian (as Angel found out), especially when they are cornered… they lash out and take out those who stand in their way – a common method for many criminals.

"Well I had to do something!" he defended himself. "Look, the cops aren't doing anything. Angel is still in danger so long as they're still out there and they know he could talk if and when he wakes up."

"Mark, you haven't been getting into Mimi's stash have you?" Roger's usual cynicism and sarcasm broke through.

"Hey!" Mimi swatted his arm, though wasn't actually offended. She really was trying to get off, and she was… slowly. Mark rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, playing with his camera.

"You come up with a better idea, man," he retorted.

"Not saying it's _not_ a good idea," Roger explained. "But don't forget we kinda got the problem of Collins having to be dragged back to MIT, and Angel is barely alive in that hospital room thanks to those assholes. How you plan to deal with _that_?"

"I don't. I called Alexi just in case we need her. I don't like selling out."

"Well I think it's a good idea!" Maureen exclaimed, suddenly changing her tune. Roger, Mimi and Joanne stared at her, and she stood up and hopped over to stand next to Mark.

"Oh come ON guys! Mark totally went all out and risked himself, we should appreciate him!"

Maureen? Appreciating someone else's efforts? That comment alone was enough to take them all by surprise, including Mark. Noticing the surprised looks she was getting, she rolled her eyes.

"What? You think I don't got a heart?"

"Oh you got a heart alright, honey," Joanne replied, amused. "Just didn't know it expanded enough for anyone other than you!"

Maureen gave her an evil look. "I'm serious! Angel's in trouble and I wanna get the fuckers who almost took him away from us. You know I'm right!"

Mimi chewed on some gum while thinking what could be done… Mark had done good by risking his own life to take that next step in punishing Sam and Julian for what they done. The strange thing was though, they weren't about punishment… this was about saving Angel, not punishing them… but if saving Angel meant finding a way to get Sam and Julian off the streets for good, then that's what they had to go with.

"Why don't we just call the cops or something?" she asked.

"Yeah," Joanne added. "With the bad publicity the hospital has gotten from Angel getting attacked, and with the footage you got, Mark – they'll have to do something."

"I know," Mark agreed. "But Angel doesn't have that much time… Sam and Julian and their gang disappears whenever they want… do you think the city is gonna waste the time and energy giving justice to Angel?"

That was an issue that couldn't be ignored and they all knew it – street justice wasn't usually their forte. After all, our group of bohemians are just content with trying to survive on their own terms without having to worry about someone else's intrusion. Unfortunately now they didn't have that luxury.

"Well whatever we do, it's not like we got a lot of choices here…"

"Yeah, I think we get that Rog!" Maureen dismissed his comment.

"Uh-huh…"

"Guys, shut up!" Mimi snapped. "It's getting us nowhere, you know?"

All the while, Julia had remained silent to their bickering and their voicing of concerns and it was clear just how close this group was. Never before had she felt more like an outsider than she did now... another common quality she shared with Mark. In their own worlds they just looked from the outside to what was happening around them.

"I think whatever we do, we shouldn't tell Collins. Not just yet," she finally inserted her opinion into the mix.

"And your theory behind that _is…_?" Roger prompted her with more sarcasm, and Mimi nudged him.

"He doesn't need to deal with it now. You say he's got this speech thing to do, right? And that's probably tearing him up cause it means he has to leave Angel. Let's just keep this down for a bit, okay?" with each word she spoke, Julia became more firmer and determined to see this through.

Mimi stood up.

"I'm just gonna… wait here. Just gotta do something."

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: in the next chapter, Mimi goes to see Collins and helps him come to a decision. Mark and Roger go find Sam and Julian.

**Sorry it took me so long for another chapter, but I lost my motivation for a while. Anyway, new chapter up as soon as possible, thanks for all the amazing reviews. Please not that I was half asleep when I wrote most of this chapter, so I do apologise if some bits don't make sense or you notice any characterization flaws or whatever, I'll fix them as soon as possible.**


	21. Chapter 21

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 21**

**_SUMMARY:_ Mimi goes to see Collins just as Angel is waking up, and Mark and Roger decide to pay Julian and Sam a visit. Angel overhears Mimi and Collins talking about his encounter with Devon McAdams.**

**Note: Again, thank you so much to everyone who keeps reviewing, it's really helping me build my confidence as a writer and to branch out into other areas of creativeness. Writing has been my life ever since I was ten years old and it is such a pleasure to be able to keep writing for you all. I really appreciate it. But I also have to mention that right now I have a very serious financial situation with the government (those fuckers!) and it's taking a priority in my life so over the course of the next few weeks, if I am a little delayed in writing and posting new chapters, you'll know why. **

**Also, I'm accepting any new ideas or twists for the story – if there's something you'd like to see happen, or any ideas that could further the progression of the story, please let me know. I give full credit where it's due, and I'd appreciate any input.**

* * *

Mimi wanted to see Angel more than anything in the world – her best friend was in a very precarious situation and even after everything she's seen, Mimi had never experienced life at this kind of level… where life and death was controlled not by you, but by someone else who could take your life away so easily. And no one was immune… not even their beloved Angel. Ever since Roger had started helping her get off the drugs, she was seeing things in an entirely new perspective and it wasn't necessarily a good thing – the world seemed darker and scarier and even more beyond her reach for control. In her own fucked up junkie world, all the pain from what was going on around her was somewhat dulled and made less of an impact, and obviously that too isn't a good thing – but she never really learned how to deal with as much tragedy as they, as a group, was dealing with now.

She stepped off the elevator and walked calmly down the hall, not paying anyone or anything any special attention in her course to Angel's room. She wasn't sure if Collins would even want her there, but she didn't care… it seemed like he was having to take more and more emotional punishment that was sending all of them into a state of confusion and even fear. For if someone like Angel could be so easily taken from this world in such a violent and unjust manner, what hope did the rest of these sin-ridden souls have? That was the most confusing part of it all for Mimi, and she didn't pretend she understood how fate or whatever was choosing to reveal itself, but it wasn't getting any better. The pain lingered as an awful aftertaste in all of them. Don't get me wrong, Mimi isn't stupid – she understands life and death; pain and pleasure; justice and injustice… and she knows how it works on the streets, as she had been there for a lot of the time to witness many things, good and bad.

Approaching Angel's room, she found herself becoming more nervous and didn't want to see the state her friend was in. How Collins could sit in there for all that time and not break down in tears – Angel was never the vulnerable type, and that's all he was now. It was overwhelming.

"Miss?" a gentle voice interrupted her and startled her out of her thoughts, and she turned around quickly. A young man – a nurse – approached her with cautious. "Can I help you?"

_Can he help me? What the fuck?_ Mimi wasn't aware she was exhibiting any signs of distress or being in need of assistance.

"No, I'm good thanks," she turned around again, but the man kept following her.

"Are you sure—"

"Look," she snapped and turned around once more. "I don't know who you think you are buddy, but I'm just gonna see my friend who was almost killed again thanks to you people so fuck off and leave me alone!"

Seeing the stunned look on his face, Mimi smirked and walked off again, satisfied that she had done good. Who the hell did he think he was? Getting in her face like that? Sure, she's probably overreacting, but she had a right to be – it was the incompetence of the hospital that left Angel lying in a pool of his own blood in the place where he is supposed to get better, and be protected. It just went to further her and her friends' distrust in the city and the officials who run it – they weren't gonna lift a finger to help Angel or their community, so there was no reason why Mark shouldn't go straight to Alexi and get them to air the tape. It would be a total humiliation of New York's police department, and expose the social consequences of the decisions the officials made.

Mimi stopped outside of Angel's closed door and studied the name plate that told everyone who the unfortunate patient in this room was… Angel Dumott Schunard. It had been only a week since the initial attack, though recent events made it feel like it was much longer and time seemed to slow down long enough to drag the pain and misery out of all of them… and it showed no sign of mercifully relenting. Sighing, she knocked on the door three times and waited for some sort of response. A couple of seconds later, the door open and Collins stood there, looking somewhat more relaxed than he did earlier that day.

"Mimi, hey…" he greeted, sounding very fatigued. Without saying a word, she gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him to her, embracing him in a loving hug which he gladly returned. "What you doing here?"

"Came to see how you doing…" she replied with a small smile. Remembering the instruction of not telling him of what was going on with Mark's footage; Mimi took extra care so he wouldn't suspect anything. They pulled away but still had their arms around each other as she peered into the room and over at Angel's bed. Mimi couldn't stop herself from gasping at the sight…

"Oh gosh…" she muttered and looked at Collins again. "Fuck… how's he doing?"

A smile spread across his face. "See for yourself, girl. He's awake!"

"What!" she ran over to Angel's bedside, and saw that it was true – Angel's eyes were awake and he was staring up at her, still as silent as ever. Mimi almost lost it at that point and she did everything she could to keep herself from grabbing Angel and pulling him into her arms.

"Oh my God ANGEL!" she cried, running her fingers lightly over his cut, bruised, and bandaged facial features.

In response, Angel managed a small smile for her and lifted his hand only slightly to touch her arm. Everything for him was so incoherent, and he was only barely making out what she was saying… there was no pain or even that much discomfort – but his senses had been numb for so long, that it was understandably difficult for him to reconnect with the real world.

Seeing the progress his lover was making, Collins' smile grew even wider but he knew he shouldn't get overly excited. By no means was Angel out of the woods just yet – far from it. But the progress was definitely there, and although the doctor's words weren't necessarily very positive, they did inspire more hope and affirm Collins' belief that Angel really was a fighter… a real angel who couldn't and wouldn't succumb to scum like Sam and Julian.

Tears streamed down Mimi's face and she leaned in closed to him, resting her head next to his on the pillow and giving him a soft kiss to his right temple. Collins walked over to her side and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.

"Can… can he hear me? Is he okay?" Mimi stammered, not looking away from Angel. But she didn't need Collins to respond, as Angel made have her hand a very subtle, soft squeeze – but to Mimi, it was the best response they could hope for.

"Doctor says she didn't expect him to wake up so soon…" Collins replied. "I doubt she expected him to wake up at all."

"How'd you know!" Mimi stroked Angel's hair and felt herself trembling so badly.

"I just saw the shock on her face is all. He can hear you..."

"Angel…" Mimi whispered, not wanting to lose control. "I…" she stopped and looked up at Collins for help.

"I dunno what to say…"

"Say whatever you want," he encouraged and wiped his eyes with a tissue. Collins then wandered around to the other side of the bed. "Be careful of his hands though… and his chest and throat."

"I know."

Mimi was having trouble getting over the shock of seeing Angel awake already, but for the first time since she's known him, she didn't know what to say. She didn't want to upset him or say something that would cause unnecessary stress… she heard that in times like this, it's always important to be encouraging and positive, for the sake of the person who needs it. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to do it… not now. Too much had happened, and she doubted that neither Angel nor Collins would appreciate false hopes being created or whatever – so what could she say?

"I, um… everyone's waiting for you, Ang," she commented thoughtfully. "We miss you, babe…"

Angel's eyes were twinkling under the light and the formation of tears was clear. Or maybe that was just the effects of the medication… whatever it was, there was no emptiness in him. Collins could see the appreciation Angel had for Mimi because she was there – just being there made the world of difference to him. What she wouldn't give to have some sort of hit right now… the highness of the drugs would help her relax (as many junkies often reasoned – the drugs killed the pressure felt from intense situations such as this). But putting her impulses aside for a brief moment, Mimi took a deep breath and tried to control her nerves – a hard thing for a junkie to do. Angel continued to stare up at her, as if imploring her with his eyes to continue…

"I just… it'll be okay, you know? It'll work out right and, and—" she choked up. "Fuck, I'm gonna cry now… see what you do to us, Ang?" she added lightheartedly, but that didn't stop the tears. "You got us all worked up, girl, you know that. Too much love here for you to go now, you know that, right?"

Again, Angel squeezed her hand to let her know that he understood, and that he was hearing her words, which he was. And it meant a lot coming from her especially, as they were so close. Collins sat back and let Mimi do the talking – as young and innocently naïve as she was, often enough she was the one who usually made the most sense. He closed his eyes for a brief second.

"We miss our Angel," Mimi continued and sniffed. "You stay with us, you hear? Okay?"

Angel was now fully aware of what was going on around him, and listening to Mimi's words was enough to give him a bit of peace. Not being able to speak or reassure them in anyway, he had resigned himself to having to just listen…

Collins stood up again and rubbed Angel's arm while looking at Mimi.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I'm cool," she replied with a chuckle. "Just didn't expect this, that's all."

"Yeah…"

Mimi leaned down and kissed Angel again. "Love you, sweetie!'

"Mims?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Um I guess so…"

Collins also kissed Angel and whispered, "We'll just be over there," he gestured to the other side of the room, and Angel followed his direction and was relieved to know they weren't leaving the room. Collins then grabbed Mimi's hand and led her to the corner of the room, opposite to where Angel's bed was and wanted to keep their conversation out of earshot.

"What is it?"

"I need you to do me a favour," he said in a low tone.

"Sure, anything…"

He took his hand out of pocket, and in it was a piece of paper. After hesitating a brief moment, he extended it to Mimi.  
"Here," he said. "I need you to call this number and ask for Devon McAdams."

Mimi stared at him. "That's that guy—"

"My 'boss'" Collins confirmed. "Well… not really my boss, but he's a superior member of the faculty at MIT…"

"Is he—"

"That asshole who came in here earlier and demanded I go to this convention thing? Yeah. I just need you to tell him that I'm not going—"

"Why?" Mimi interrupted. "Collins this is your job, you need it—"

"I need Angel. I'm not leaving him, you guys, or New York again. I belong here."

"Yeah, but—"

"Mimi, I can't go! I promised him I wouldn't leave his side again and I'm not gonna break another promise to him. Last time I did that, and you see what happened—"

"I'll stay with him, we all will… but you gotta go, you need the money."

"I'll get by," Collins told her. "I always do. I don't need MIT—"

"But you won't be able to get a job anywhere else… Roger said thatthis guythreatened to black list you if you didn't go… whatever that means."

Collins put his arms around her shoulders and kissed her forehead, touched by her concern.

"I'll be okay. I'll find something. But I'm not selling out to them. Not again…"

The situation was a difficult one to digest let alone try work through – Mimi didn't want Collins to go anymore than he did, but she also knew that his professional life would crumble should he purposefully defy his employers, especially those whom are in charge of such a prestigious institution as MIT.

"I think you should go," she said. "Angel will understand."

Unfortunately both of them were so involved with their conversation that they forgot to keep a lid on how loudly they spoke, and Angel could hear almost every word they were saying. Collins had to leave? Again? A tear slipped from his eyes and dripped down the side of his face at the prospect of his lover having to go again, even if it was just for a short time, when he was still lingering between life and death.

'I can't do that to him again!" Collins hissed. "I won't. And it's not just about him, it's the principle of the fucking matter – I'm not a puppet on strings for them to manipulate, especially Devon McAdams, whenever they damn well feel like it. They want me to speak at a convention that goes against everything I am and everything we stand for… everything _we_ are. And I'd basically be getting up there and lying to my students, which I won't do."

Mimi shrugged. "Never you to be so on principle with anyone Collins… you're an anarchist, you love screwing people like them over! Hell, I love watching you do it!"

"Yeah, exactly. That's why I'm not going. And besides, as much as I hate the authority of the board, I won't take that out on my students. Including Julia."

Mimi smiled. "So this is more about her then, right?"

"Damn straight. She's lived in that world her entire life and I've seen what it does to her… I won't be apart of it. They can go fuck themselves for all I care." There was a passion in his voice that had been missed by all of them when he left, and to hear him getting it back was a relief. For Tom Collins, the vagabond anarchist who defied conventions and refused to conform to the accept theories, his passion in life often mingled with his work… maybe it was his life experiences or just existing in a community that thrives on diversity and being different. Either way, when he made up his mind there was no turning back.

"Then do it your way," Mimi reasoned. "Beat those assholes at their own game. Be who you are or whatever you wanna do… isn't that what Angel always said?"

It wasn't like she was trying to convince him to go, but there was that opportunity for Collins to take back what was rightfully his – himself. He had to hide his own identity – who he was – during his time with the conservative board at MIT. Now was the time to get it back.

"Collins… you should go. If not for you, for Angel. Angel wants you back, but he won't get you so long as you go on like this, you know? I really think you should do this. I'll stay with Angel to you get back, but you _know_ it's something you gotta do. You know it, babe."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling the heaviness of fatigue and the weight of his body wanting to just lie down and let natural sleep take over. He didn't wanna argue with her now.

"Whatever," he replied. "I just don't know how to explain this to Angel, you know? I don't want him to think its be betraying my word to him _again_."

"He won't! This isn't like something you _planned_ or anything. He knows that. Or at least, he'll understand it sooner or later… you can't give him everything until you get back yourself. That's what he taught me… him and Roger taught me that. At first I was like 'fuck you, let me do things on my own'… but now it makes more sense, you know?"

"Where did you get so wise, Ms. Marquez?" Collins teased weakly. She shrugged casually and leaned against the wall.

"I know a lot of this," she teased back. "Just no one cares to ask is all. Everyone thinks the drugs fried my brain."

"The drugs _have_ fried you honey."

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, yeah…" he laughed, appreciating the moment of lightheartedness. "But seriously, Mims. No one thinks your stupid."

"I don't care, Collins. It doesn't matter to me – I know what I got, and that's what's important. Not what anyone else thinks, you know?"

"Yeah I get it. Thanks Mims." He pulled her into a hug and held her there, feeling the warmth of her body against his. It was comforting.

"For what?"

Collins shook his head sadly. "For being you."

Mimi chewed her gum and drummed her fingers against the wall. "So have you made up your mind?

He sighed again and wanted to pound his head against the wall – he hated this. "Yeah, I've made up my mind."

"You gonna go?"

"Yes… I'll go."

Angel listened. Another tear.

**WITH ROGER AND MARK**

Standing outside the cafeteria, Roger was still not sure if confronting Sam and Julian would be the wisest idea. After all, they're heavy drug and gun dealers and had a good sized gang and could easily put out a call to have them all knocked off… as passionate as Roger was to find them and _kill_ them for that they did to Angel, he wasn't stupid and neither was Mark.

"How the hell are we supposed to know where they are anyway?" Roger asked with slight annoyance.

"I mean, should we not get killed the second they spot us, how are we supposed to approach this?"

"I don't know, Roger," Mark replied, just as frustrated. "But we gotta do something – Angel won't be any safer until something's done."

"Yeah, yeah, I know you're right man. Doesn't make my _feel_ any better."

Both men began walking to the exit of the hospital, having already informed Maureen and Joanne that they were gonna take care of things now. They offered to come along, not wanting to miss this chance to see their reactions, but the men refused – they weren't gonna put them in harms way no matter what came of this confrontation. Street justice was often the most affective and preferred type of justice for their community, since the community had a very antagonistic relationship with the NYPD and city council.

Roger ran his fingers through his long her and let out a very nervous breath of air… Mark simply kept his mind on what they were about to do. Knowing he had Alexi darling ready willing and able to collect the tape and air it all over Buzzline… and knowing that Sam and Julian feared losing their clientele more than going to jail or whatever, so if the tape gets aired the police would be humiliated, Sam would lose his business and probably go to jail. Two birds in one stone. That's why he called Alexi.

"When we get to the loft, I'll call Alexi and set up a place so I can give her the footage," Mark explained.

"What do I do?"

"Do whatever. Just be careful, k?"

"Uh-huh…"

Being in the highly unusual position they were, Roger had no clue what to do nor knew what to expect. Sam was very unpredictable and obviously Julian was even more unstable… surely they wouldn't be stupid enough to try hurt them in broad daylight. Anyway, that's not how Sam worked. He'd never hurt anyone unless he thought it was absolutely necessary… that's who he was. Sam was your dictionary definition of a coward and had slight paranoid tendencies even when he wasn't fucked up and high on his own junk. So the fear of getting caught out by police, as he had done on some occasions before, was very high with Sam.

They walked silently, and Roger was kicking himself for not having told Mimi what was happening, but soon figured she'd get over it.

"Just hope this doesn't come back to bite us in the ass," he whispered, though Mark heard.

"Do you think he'll die?" he changed the subject to an even more depressing one.

"What?"

"Angel. You think he's gonna die, don't you?"

Roger shrugged sadly. "I just think we gotta think about the possibility that's all. I mean, what happens if he does? What then? What good would _any_ of this do?"

"You're a cynical bastard, you know that right?"

"I'm a realistic bastard. Don't tell me that the thought hasn't crossed your mind."

"Rog, of course it has! Heck, he had half his blood supply soaking into the hospital floor!" Mark replied, now pissed off. "Don't know about you, but I wanna believe he's gonna live, okay?"

"Suit yourself."

Finishing the argument there, they exited the hospital and continued on their way in silence. What would happen next was anyone's guess, but it had to be done…

**BACK WITH COLLINS, MIMI, AND ANGEL**

Sitting back down on the bed, Collins could immediately tell that Angel was upset – tear stains streaked his cheeks and his eyes were darkened and he was scared. Mimi also sat down and bit her lip when she saw the pain Angel was having to handle. He squeezed his eyes shut and silently whimpered at the thought of Collins being gone again – after everything, he needed to stay. They needed to be together!

"Shit," Collins muttered. "Angel, baby? What is it? Pain?" his heart started thumping so loudly he thought he could hear the beating in his own ears. "Angel!"

"He heard," Mimi whispered, instantly hit with the guilt… she and Collins should've been more careful.

"What?"

"He heard us. He heard… look at him, Collins! He heard it!" she insisted, and Angel squeezed Collins' hand in agreement, not feeling the pain in his hands thanks to good ol' fashioned pain killers.

"You heard!" Collins was shocked. The last thing he wanted was for Angel to stress about him leaving his side, let alone the hospital. "What the--- Angel, I'm so sorry gorgeous… I honestly didn't mean for you to hear that!"

Angel's sadness was so visible it made both their hearts wrench and Collins once again couldn't shake himself of that guilt of having to leave Angel's side again – but Mimi was right in that this was something he had to do in order to move on and put his past behind him. Forget regret.

"Mimi?"

"Yeah?"

"Umm… could I be with Angel alone for a few minutes?"

Knowing the gravity of the situation, Mimi silently nodded and excused herself, but didn't leave before giving Angel another kiss and whispering that she'll be back soon with the others. After she closed the door behind her, Collins placed Angel's fingers to his mouth and kissed each one for a soothing comfort to them both.

"Angel…" he spoke softly so not to alarm him. "Baby… I'm so sorry… it's just… it's something I gotta do. I wanna give you everything, every part of me again… I can't do that while I'm still tied to these people."

The innocence and sadness of Angel reflected that of a little child who had just lost his prized toy. Through what they had to get through to stay in each other's arms, it didn't seem fair that anyone could ask Collins or him for anything right now, but apparently this was just one more obstacle they had to go through. Angel wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and shout and curse Collins out, though the back of his mind was telling him that these were genuine circumstances that his boyfriend couldn't foresee and that it had to be done. And Angel wanted to hate Mimi for pushing the idea to go into Collins' head and encouraging him to do it, and he wanted to scream at her for being the one to cause Collins to leave. Again, it wasn't her fault either. Whoever this Devon McAdams was, he had to be a real fucking asshole to force Collins to do this now, and have no regards for what was going on in their lives. Angel wanted to scream and shout and cry and release all the anger and hurt he was feeling – betrayal, fear, and desire… confliction of his own feelings was definitely not making it any easier on him. Feeling the gathering emotion sticking to his already damaged throat, Angel wanted nothing more but to hate them all and wish that he'd never met _any _of them. For it was them being in his life that made this all so hard to deal with… he didn't want to die and be separated from his friends (his family)… from Collins. And he really wanted to despise Collins for being the one he fell in love with… for giving him the reason to keep feeling the pain and fight through it to live. Three years ago, if this has happened, it would've been easier to give up and die. Now, it was too much to ask of himself.

But being vocally unable to release his anger, he kept a hold of Collins' hand and wished he was super glued to him so they'd literally be stuck together. Collins kissed him again.

"I don't wanna go, sweetie, I really don't… it hurts so bad to have to leave you here, but I swear it won't be for long, I—" he stopped himself before he said the word 'promise'. He had broken too many promises to Angel for that word to have any meaning anymore, positive or negative.

"I love you," he finished. "And you're all I think about, and all I'll be thinking about. It'll only be for a night, okay? And the other's will be here and stay with you, okay?"

He reached over and wiped a tear from Angel's eye just as it was released and smiled, reassuringly, but not convincingly.

"Trust me, baby. I know it's hard, and it's something I shouldn't ask you to do yet… but give me a little trust again that's all I want. Trust me when I tell you that it'll be okay. We'll all get through this, k? Trust me, just a little."

Trusting Collins was still a major issue with Angel, given the circumstances he was in now, but he didn't have much choice in the matter. Collins was gonna go again, and he said he'd be back. Angel had no choice but to hold to that trust. Two weeks ago, all he could focus on was the lies and deceit Tom Collins had looked into his eyes and told him… so the trust wasn't back completely yet, since Julian's attack. But it wasn't completely gone either.

"Just trust me, Angel…"

Angel's fingers traced circles around the palm of Collins' hand and he clasped his fingers in agreement.

"I love you," Collins repeated. "And that's all that's gonna keep me going… all that'll keep me strong while I'm away. I just got things to do. Then it'll be done."

Already, ideas were circulating in his head as to what he'd do and say when he'd get to the conference, and he would make sure it would be something _none_ of them would forget. Especially Devon McAdams.

"You're my best friend, Ang. And when I get back, it'll be for good. You'll see. I got a lot to prove, I know – to you, to our friends… to everyone. And I know you'd say '_just be yourself, Tom. You got nothing to prove'_ or whatever… but we both know I do. I gotta prove to you that I want you and love you more than anything in this world. I gotta prove to the others that I'm not leaving again. So that's why I gotta do this, okay? God, I wish I could hear you speak again… hear your voice."

Angel managed another small smile and loved those words. Collins was right – he had a hell of a lot of things to prove to them, and it was plain obvious that he was more than willing to do so. It was not time to wait and see if he could carry out on his word…

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ next chapter – Roger and Mark meet Alexi. Sam and Julian find _them_ at the Life Café. Collins returns to MIT to give the speech (and it's gonna be real good!) Julia and Mark share an intimate moment.**


	22. Chapter 22

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 22**

**_SUMMARY:_ Mark and Roger meet up with Alexi; Sam and Julian find them at the Life Café; Collins returns to MIT much to the distress of Angel.**

**It should also be noted that this story is nearing its conclusion, and loose ends are gonna be tied up. I'm in the stages of thinking up a dramatic ending, which may or may not include a death (I'm still pondering that option).**

* * *

Roger and Sam glared at each other, both holding their ground and not flinching for one second. They were in the Life Café and Mark had just handed the tape over to Alexi when the doors opened and two familiar faces were looking at them with nothing short of pure hatred. How Sam and Julian found out they were there? Probably a couple of their subordinates had seen them enter the place, and maybe had recognized Alexi Darling too, so now it was on. Mark and Alexi were still in their seated positions, both too afraid to want to move, but finally Mark joined Roger, standing up next to him. This was not what he was expecting. Alexi slowly moved her hand to put the tape in her bag, out of view from Sam and Julian, and tried to remain unnoticed in their dark eyes. But Sam's focus was no where but on Mark and Roger… it was like he was already attacking them with just the sheer emotion and anger on his face. Things could easily escalate into violence as he was always, they knew, impulsive and paranoid especially when threatened.

"Well," Julian scoffed. "Nice surprise."

"Whatever you say," Roger shot back. "Didn't think you had the balls to show up around here again."

Sam held the knife in his pocket. "And why do you think that, _Roger_?"

He smirked and shook his head. "You really got no idea?"

"Enlighten us." Sam dared.

"You sure you wanna know?"

"Can't be that bad."

"You sure of that?"

"Say it."

"What'd you think, Mark? Should we tell 'em?"

"Hell no, let them find out for themselves," Mark replied. "Course by then it'll be too late."

Julian tensed up. "Too late for what?"

Roger casually sat on the table and fiddled with his jacket. "Your total incompetence not withstanding… Angel's still alive."

Taunting them wasn't actually a smart idea, and the look of shock from Sam and the confused, even dazed look from Julian, was enough to tell Roger and Mark that they hadn't been expecting that news. Once again, they failed to strip Angel of his life… how many chances do these guys need? Honestly, who'd think it'd be so hard?

"Excuse me…" Alexi stood up and rushed past all for of them, not making eye contact. They watched her leave and Sam turned back to them.

"Who the hell was she?"

"She looks familiar…" Julian added and tried to think of where he recognized her from.

Mark and Roger exchanged knowing looks and moved to leave, but the other two blocked their way, and the situation quickly tensed – other patrons of the Café looked over to see what was going on, including the employees.

"Move." Roger instructed darkly, and Mark put his hand on his shoulder to restrain him. Roger's impulses weren't really under control, and his passion was something that could easily turn against him in a situation like this. "Now."

"And _you_, after what happened to your friend, think you got the balls to tell me what to do?" Sam mocked. He never looked more dangerous than he did now, but Roger wasn't one to back away from a fight if he had to…

"Sounds like an admission of guilt."

"Sounds like you ought to be careful."

"Oh wow," Roger sarcastically retorted. "Didn't know you were so concerned for our safety."

"Just merely suggesting," Sam replied and stepped aside. "Wouldn't wanna see your pretty vocal cords shredded to pieces like Angel's."

"Why would you say that?" Mark challenged, satisfied knowing Alexi had the tape. He wasn't sure if he could trust her, but he was damn sure more willing to than to trust the alternative… he didn't want to risk them getting hold of the tape. "Got somethin' to hide?"

Julian shrugged and stepped aside, tapping Sam's shoulder so he could do the same to let them through.  
"Not at all. Just goin' about business as usual."

"And what business is that?" Roger queried, walking past them. Mark quickly followed behind. "The business of killing kids with that crap you cook up?"

After all four of them were outside the café, things heated up and Julian resisted every urge grab Sam's knife and do away with these bohemian freaks. The four of them moved into a more secluded spot, in a back street just behind the Café, where they wouldn't be disturbed by people passing by. The only bad thing was, if things did turn violent, this would also be the perfect spot to cover up the crime and help would be too far away to be of any use. But it was a risk all four men had to take.

"Recreational pharmaceuticals. We don't force it in their veins, they come to us."

"Ahh I get it," Roger chuckled. "Innocent bystanders."

"Accommodators to peoples needs."

"Drug pushers."

"Business dealers," Sam put his spin on it. "We don't force anyone to do anything."

"Except Angel," Mark turned up the heat even further. "Forced him to do a lot, didn't you?"

A small sigh escaped the back of Sam's throat at the total ignorance of Collins' friends. He knew it was them who poisoned Collins against him and it was their fault things turned out the way they did. If he and Collins were still together, he'd probably have the motivation to give up this lifestyle all together, but now his ex's heart lay with someone else and it hurt badly. Sam stepped closer to Mark.

"_That_ wasn't very nice."

"Nor was slicing Angel's neck open," Roger growled, standing just behind Mark so that he could back him up. "Nor was raping him; nor was turning his and Collins' lives into hell… that wasn't exactly the picture of niceness either."

"You can't prove we had anything to do with that," Julian pointed out, totally ignorant to the advantageous situation the two men in front of him were in, and both had to resist smiling and laughing at that comment at all costs. Things would play out as they're supposed to. Roger saw Sam's hand in his pocket, obviously holding something that could prove to be dangerous, so he grabbed the back of Mark's shirt and pulled him back to stand next to him, just out of arms-length of Sam.

"We're not the cops, Julian. We don't have to prove anything… we know it was you two," Roger replied. "And besides the fact that Angel _told _us… well, not us. He told Collins that it was Sam who attacked him last week, but now since his throat's not exactly working right now, he hasn't been able to say who came into his hospital room yesterday. How convenient."

"What I wanna know," Sam ignored him. "Is what you both are doing here, when I thought you would be at the hospital."

"Actually we were coming to see _you_." Roger sat down on a dirty old chair that had been thrown out by the café.

"Oh? Why's that?"

Roger looked at Mark. "Wanna tell them now? Or drag it out?"

Mark shrugged nonchalantly. "I'd rather wait until the ten o'clock news, but now's good too."

Sam and Julian glanced at each other, nervously – whatever these two were going on about, it couldn't be good. They were too relaxed and seemingly enjoying dragging this out in front of them…

The four of them fell silent for a few moments and an eerie atmosphere took over – one of foreboding pain and imminent danger. A bird perched itself nearby and stared at them, momentarily distracting Mark with the noise it made, but he quickly refocused and kept a safe distance away from Sam and Julian.

"What areyou talking about?" Julian demanded. "You boys honestly don't wanna go messing with us."

"Oh really? Sounds like a challenge there," Roger pushed.

"And you'll lose. You don't know what you're dealing with," Sam explained, wanting them to understand the full ramifications should they choose to do something reckless… something stupid. "Angel didn't."

"There are choices," Mark was now ready to come clean. "And they both happen to be yours, Sammy. You can either go to the copsabout what you did… or you can lose your business."

Sam burst out laughing at that proposition, and wondered how Mark could be so naïve. "You're kidding, right? Not much of a deal."

Roger leaned forward. "Well, it's better than the alternative. At least he's giving you choices."

"You make it sound like he's got something over us," Julian spoke up, cautiously. "Know something we don't?"

"You could say that."

"More like we got something you don't. Well, we did. Now Alexi Darling from that show, Buzzline, has it." Mark added.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Sam was getting agitated now. And as we all know, it wasn't a good idea to piss him off. His mental stability was basically always on the edge of a knife – it could go in any direction, but usually resulting in dire consequences for the ones responsible. To sum him up in one word? Psycho.

But Roger took this as their cue to leave… being in the position they were, if they laid it fully out of them in this spot, Sam and Julian wouldn't hesitate to inflict punishment on them – not to mention the danger it would put Alexi in.

"Something about a confession caught on tape," he told them. "You know, man you should really be more careful about what you say. Never know who could be watching."

He and Mark quickly left before either of the two other men had a chance to register his words. Making it back onto the main street, just outside the café, Mark turned to Roger.

"D'you think that was a good idea?"

"What?"

"They're gonna run for it now, I know!"

"Mark," Roger smiled and patted his friend's back. "You don't know how the mind of a junkie works. No matter how much they wanna escape, often enough they'll be drawn back to wherever they get their fix. Not to mention they got their entire lives here… before they get a chance to run, it'll be over. Trust me, bro. I know what I'm talking about; hell, I was one. I know all about the mindset."

"Whatever you say." Mark looked behind him, nervously. "Come on. Let's go, I need to make a phone call."

"To who?"

"Alexi."

"Why?"

"I'm giving her permission to air the tape…"

**WITH COLLINS AND ANGEL**

Stroking his lover's face, Collins kissed the tears away while Angel silently cried at the suddenness to which the professor would be departing for Massachusetts. He needed him here, but it was not to be…

"I'll be back in a couple of days, baby, okay," Collins whispered soothing words of comfort but wasn't really convincing himself, let alone the love of his life. "Mimi, Maureen, and Joanne are here, they're not goin' anywhere. Roger and Mark will be back, you know they'll look out for you…"

Another tear slipped down Angel's cheek and Collins used his thumb to gently brush it away. Standing at the end of the bed, the three girls were almost gushing at the love they saw – it was clear just how much Collins wanted to set things right. Everything was coming together now, and this would be the time when they all needed to stick together.

"I'll be thinking of you the entire time, sweetie," Collins continued. He wanted to at least bring some peace to Angel's troubled heart and mind before he left. But what more could he say? "I won't be long."

He gave Angel a sweet, tender kiss on the lips, savoring every second that passed before reluctantly pulling away, leaving Angel wanting more. He looked up at the girls with fear.

"You sure you'll be okay with him?"

"It'll be fine, honey," Maureen assured with sincerity. "It'll be a girl's night, right Ang!" she added, mischievously. Angel smiled and blinked multiple times in response, agreeing with her. Collins also managed a small smile, but remained entirely apprehensive and wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing. Collins kissed Angel's forehead, and then his fingers.

"I love you," he whispered. "More than anything. I'll be back soon…"

Joanne then elbowed Maureen in the stomach, causing her to yelp and jump back, rubbing her midsection.

"What the fuck? What the hell was _that_ for? What'd I do now?" she seemed genuinely confused.

"Why don't you ever say things like that to me?" Joanne sulked.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

Maureen groaned. "Is this about that waitress? I swear, I was just asking where the bathroom was!"

"No this isn't about the waitress, it's about—" Joanne paused. "What waitress?"

Maureen froze. Oh shit. She was in deep now. She looked at Mimi. "You didn't tell her!"

"Um… no… you told me not to."

"I didn't think you'd actually not say anything!"

Joanne pulled Maureen's arm to get her attention. "What waitress!"

"Come on baby you know how I feel about you. It was nothing! You know it's nothing, right?" Maureen was once again left to fix the situation she had caused, while Mimi, Angel, and Collins watched with amusement and slight confusion. Pouting her lips and giving Joanne the 'puppy dog eyes' look. "Pookie? You know that, right?"

"No," Joanne replied, stubbornly. "Honestly I don't! I don't know anything with you anymore, Maureen!"

"Guys, shut up!" Mimi scolded. "This is _so_ not the time or place!"

Still sulking and wondering about what exactly happened with this 'waitress', Joanne stormed over to a seat in the corner of the room and sat down. She didn't wanna look at Maureen right now. Maureen went to the other side of the room and turned away from Joanne… no matter how rocky their relationship got, it usually worked out in the end. Mimi turned back to Collins.

"That reminds me… Julia wants to speak to you."

"Julia?"

"Yeah… she and Mark came back earlier, but Mark and Roger disappeared again and she's outside. She wants to talk to you before you go."

Collins frowned. "Why didn't she come in here?"

Mimi shrugged. "I tried convincing her to, but she said something about it should be just us for now. I dunno… she just asked me to pass on the message."

A few minutes later, after having said goodbye to Angel and the girls again, Collins stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. There, sitting across from him almost asleep on one of those awful hospital seats, was Julia. He smiled and walked over to her, reached out and lightly grazed her cheek with his finger, getting her attention. She looked up and smiled wearily.

"Hey," she greeted and sat back, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"How you doing?"

"Been better," she confessed lightly. "What about you? And Angel? Hanging in there?"

"He's awake. He's doing okay," Collins reported.

"That's awesome. I knew he'd pull through."

"He's not in the clear yet, you know…"

"Yeah I know. But I believe he'll be okay. Don't you?"

Collins thought about that… he never really gave himself a chance to think about what might happen, and in the event of Angel's death, it would be over for him. But the positive thought of Angel pulling through this mess was somewhat stronger and more present in him.

"Yeah," he replied. "I do."

**3 HOURS LATER**

"How is he?" Mark asked Mimi as he and Roger entered the room. It was the first time he'd seen Angel since the second attack and it was a horrifying sight… but at least Angel was comfortable. Or so he seemed. About half an hour after Collins left, he had fallen back asleep and Julia had joined them in the room. During that time, Mark and Roger had both talked to Alexi about the possibilities of what could happen after the tape gets aired on Buzzline that night and were hoping to make it back to the hospital before Collins left so they could finally let him know what was going on, but obviously they didn't make it in time.

"Better than he was," Mimi replied, sitting on Roger's lap who had pulled a chair up next to Angel's bed. "Heartbreaking when Collins left, though."

"When did he go?" Roger also asked her.

"'Bout two hours ago. Didn't say when he'd be back."

"Let's just hope he knows what he's doing."

"Uh-huh."

Maureen was busy trying to get Joanne to talk to her again, while Julia was watching the television, blocking out everything that was going on around her. Mark walked over to her and touched her arm, startling her.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Forget it," she replied and sat up on the empty bed so he could sit down too.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just… tired. It's all too much."

"I know. And it's not gonna get any easier," he laughed. "This is about as good as it gets here."

"It's not funny."

"I know. But then again nothing here is… trust me, it'll work out."

"How do you know?"

"Just trust me, okay?"

"Hmmm..."

Mark joined her in stretching out his legs on the bed and rested his back against the pillow. It was the first time in days he'd got to really lie down and he was gonna take this opportunity for everything it was worth.

"Having fun there you two?" Maureen winked at them and grinned. She knew Mark never really got over her leaving him, especially for a woman, but this was a chance he could start over with someone knew. "Wanna get yourselves a _private_ room?"

"Shut up Maureen."

"Aww poor Markie. He's blushing!" she squealed.

In response he threw a pillow at her which she blocked and poked her tongue out of him. "Maureen!" Joanne snapped. "We're in a hospital with our friend hooked up to a bunch of machines over there. Fucking grow up!"

Julia watched the interaction between the lovers with fascination… fascination at the diversity of all these people, these characters and how different they all were, yet how much the loved each other and got along so well. That was the beauty of this community… celebrating diversity rather than condemning it and having the freedom to be and do whatever you want without fear of reprisal or being ostracized. It's what society should be, but apparently it took poverty and having real dreams to accomplish what should be in this world… not conformity. These people had the freedom and confidence to do and say whatever they want and didn't care about what the rest of the world thought of them or their lives. They lived to survive with each other. They lived for their art and their friendships. Suddenly everything she knew to be important in her life lost all meaning and importance… and everything she once took for granted took on a new life – a new meaning. As corny as that sounds, it was a world you had to experience to be able to understand. Julia's experiences of the past week were enough to either deter her forever or make her want more… and having someone like Mark around certainly pushed the idea of staying around to more favour.

At the same time, Mark had lost interest in what Joanne and Maureen were doing, and kept an eye on the time. Hopefully Alexi would keep her word and air the footage… then it would be the death of Sam and Julian – or at least their lucrative drugs and guns business ventures. Roger was also paying close attention to the time, and knew Sam and Julian would be tuning in to the same program… if Sam was anything, it was predictable if you pushed the right buttons. Bait him, and he'll usually follow.

"Mark?" Roger hissed. "Go on!"

Mark nodded and reluctantly sat up on the bed. Getting to his feet, he reached up and changed the channel on the television, which didn't escape anyone's attention.

"Hey, I was watching that!" Julia protested but wasn't too bothered to move. Mark sat next to her again.

"Guys, you gotta see this," he told everyone. Luckily Angel was still asleep… this wasn't something he should be subjected to. Even Maureen settled down long enough to see what was gonna happen and she sat next to Joanne, linking hands with her. Joanne didn't bother to push her away, and even drew her closer as the introduction to Buzzline appeared on the screen. This was it. Samuel and Julian were screwed.

**THE NEXT DAY**

Leaving Angel's bedside was the hardest thing he's had to do yet… being exactly a week after Sam and Angel's encounter in the alleyway, Collins knew exactly what he was gonna do and say when he got there. It wasn't surprising as to the insensitivity of his colleagues to have to drag him away from someone he loved who had just suffered tremendous amounts of pain for no other reason than being who he was. If the members of the MIT facultyhad to findout about Collins' and his friends backgrounds and lifestyles, then it would be done on his terms. Angel was in tears when he left, and Mimi promised not to leave his bedside – it was okay for her to do so, as she was yet to break any of her promises to Angel, so he could believe her a lot more than he could trust Collins… and he hated that. But not being able to move much or speak, he had no choice but to resign him self to the situation and accept that things were gonna happen as they were supposed to. He saw it as another betrayal on Collins' part – he promised not to leave, and now he had broken that promise – whether these circumstances were foreseen or not.

Now, at 6:00 PM in the evening on that sunny Friday, Collins stood outside the entrance to Devon McAdams' office, loathing the very thought of having to see that man again. Oh well. It would be the last, for after tonight he had no intention of stepping back into this place again. The only real good thing to come from being here was his friendship with Julia, which had blossomed to the point where he now cherished her as he did with all his friends. In his left pocket, his fingers curled around the already scrunched and folded up papers that contained the very words he wanted to speak…

Removing them from his pocket, Collins unfolded the papers and looked down at the words. Somehow, they didn't make as much sense to him anymore as they did when he wrote them earlier that morning. He wasn't nervous, but he wasn't looking forward to this either… this group of people epitomized everything he came to loathe in people – greed, self-love, snobbery, ignorance… everything he was not. Everything he didn't represent. Collins had the feeling Devon chose him specifically to do this for that very reason… he wanted to see the anarchist professor fall flat on his face.

"Asshole…" he muttered.

He knocked on the door and waited for a response.

"Come in!" came a booming reply. Collins opened the door to see Professor McAdams with three other members of the faculty whom he recognized, and one person whom he didn't. "Ahh, Professor Collins!" Devon stood up with an ugly, smug smile on his face. "Come on in!"

Silently, Collins did so and closed the door behind him. His legs were beginning to feel like lead and his heart was bouncing around all corners of his chest cavity. This wasn't fair. The three other teachers he knew, Elizabeth Trevor, Simon Carmichael, and Lawrence Jordan were people that he was friendly with, but they weren't very social. He just nodded a quick hello and stepped forward.

"I'd like you to meet the republican representative from the governor's office, Dr. Timothy Halton!" Devon grinned. Again, remaining silent, Collins shook the elderly man's hand.

"Hi," he said softly.

"So this is the young man who will be addressing us tonight?" Dr. Halton eyed Collins, inspecting him for any flaws. _If only he knew…_ Collins thought. He wasn't gonna make this easy for any of them, so he didn't have to pretend that he liked this 'Dr.' or any of them anymore. Right now, Collins was simply consumed with his loathing of Devon McAdams who was seeking this opportunity to screw him over, royally.

"He is," Devon confirmed. "Sir, this is Professor Thomas Collins. He teaches computer-age philosophy here, and is a well liked and respected member of the faculty by his peers and students." _Ha! What bullshit_. Students, yes, he got along with quite well. But his peers? Other teachers? Rarely.

"I see," Dr. Halton replied. "Well, it's certainly a pleasure to meet you, young man." _Patronising bastard._

"The pleasure's all mine, sir." Collins plastered a fake smile to his face. "Glad I could fill in for Professor Davidson at the last minute."

"Yes, it is quite a shame," the man replied. "I quite enjoyed the seminar he gave last month. Very informative. But I shall assume that you shall give no less of a standard address tonight, am I correct?" _He has no idea_, Collins thought maliciously.

Collins smiled and nodded. "Trust me, sir, it'll be something I doubt anyone will be forgetting." _I'll show these fuckers… and screw Devon over in the process._

Dr. Halton smiled and patted his shoulder. "Ahh confidence. That's what I like to see in today's youth. Well I am definitely looking forward to it." _What's with this moron? With the pole shoved up his ass, I'm surprised he isn't touching the moon!_

"Thank you, sir."

Dr. Halton then turned to Devon. "Well, if you'll please excuse me, I shall go find my lovely wife and find usour seats," he looked at Collins. "Good luck, young man. We'll all be watching you, be sure of that." _Yeah, no fucking pressure._ With that said, the doctor left and the other three teachers excused themselves, leaving just Devon and Collins alone. After the door had been closed, the smile on Devon's face vanished only to be replaced by a menacing glare.

"Don't think I won't be watching you either, Tom," he growled. "You once destroyed the virtual reality equipment, cost this institution a lot of money, and now here you are giving a speech at one of the most important functions of the year…"

"Well, someone must really fucking love me then," Collins snapped sarcastically. "Let me tell you something, Devon. I don't give a damn about any of this… I know why you picked me to do it, and I know there's nothing you'd rather see than for me to be humiliated. Don't think I'm stupid, man… you have no idea who you're dealing with."

"Is that a threat?"

"Call it whatever you want. Stay the hell out of my way, and just maybe we'll both get through this night unscathed."

"Don't you dare—"

"Don't I dare what?" Collins stormed up to him; their faces inches from each other. "You dragged me here away from someone whom I care about, who was almost killed by my psychotic ex and you want me to give this speech? For no other purpose than to humiliate me and declare yourself the winner? Well guess what, Devon? Fine. You win. I don't care… but I do care about getting home to my family, after tonight in which you'll never have to hear from me again." Built up feelings of resentment had turned into pure, unadulterated hatred and the temptation to throw Devon head-first out the window was intense. But Collins kept himself cool and calmed.

"You can kiss as much ass as you like. But don't expect me to play along…" he then turned his back to him and left the office, slamming the door behind him. This was war.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ I decided to leave Collins' speech to the next chapter (Yeah I know, I suck! Lol) I wanted to end this chapter on a little cliffhanger. Anyway, the speech is definitely in the next chapter. In the next chapter, after the speech Collins returns back to New York just in time to see Julian and Sam get what's coming to them. Also, another attack on one of our favourite bohemians (don't worry! It's not Angel this time!) Also, Angel mutters his first words since Julian attacked him. A Mark and Julia moment too (I know it was meant to be in this chapter, but the direction of the story suggested I shall leave this little sub-plot for a little later. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about it!) I was really tired when I wrote this chapter, so I will go over it again in a bit and fix any plot holes. But please review!**

**Again, like I said at the beginning of the chapter, the conclusion to this story is fast approaching so I just wanna say thanks again to all who keep reviewing and giving the kind words. You all are awesome! Group hug! HUGS**


	23. Chapter 23

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 23**

**_SUMMARY:_ Okay, this chapter is with Collins' speech. Mark and Julia have a moment. Angel speaks. Okay, hold on tight! This is gonna be a full chapter… also, Collins' speech is one that I believe represents who he is, and who his friends are… the spirit of Rent.**

* * *

Collins stood to the side of the stage and looked out across the see of people who arrived to lend their support to the purpose of the benefit. He wasn't nervous… there was nothing to be nervous about, at least not for him. He wasn't trying to impress anybody (on the contrary, he was about to piss practically everyone in the room off, if things went his way) but he was anxious to get out of there. Hopefully he could get out before Devon strung him up in the auditorium… well, whatever. The thought of getting back to see Angel and be with him again was the only thing that was keeping him from going insane. The pompous ass that was Devon McAdams was standing at the podium, blabbering on about the benefit of promoting the republican values among society and encouraging a democracy that would, in Collins' mind, never be fulfilled. Not while there was all this bullshit going on. Toying with the papers in his hands, Collins stood there waiting for his cue. What was he gonna talk about? Well, in the speech he had written out, he was gonna say he agreed on many of Devon's points and those represented at this event… about society and values, etc. But things were different now. Ever since that encounter in Devon's office half an hour earlier, there was no way he could go up onto that stage and lie about who he is… not to them, but to himself. That's when he'd know he's lost Angel for good… when he can't even be honest with himself. The situation had been changed, unknowingly by Devon. There were cameras there and news people ready to cover what he was gonna say.

Collins looked down at the suit he was wearing (one in which he rented earlier that day), to make sure there was no stains or bits of food sticking too it, or anything that would suggest that he's from a less than civilized place. In thirty seconds, Tom Collins would be standing before a room full of republicans, expected to give a speech on family values and how the promotion of republican ideals would inevitably bring around a more stable environment and economy for future generations to enjoy. Blah, blah, blah… pure propaganda. Without warning, he was brought back to reality when he heard Devon speaking…

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I'm very pleased to announce our main speaker for the evening," Devon's bright white teeth glistened under the glaring lights. The fakeness of his enthusiasm was lost on all except Collins who rolled his eyes and was silently laughing bitterly about the irony of this all.

"He is one of the most… unique… professors we've had here at MIT for quite some time now. And although some of his theories have proved intriguing and argumentative at times—"

_Argumentative!_ Collins' mind was screaming. _WHAT! That fucking—_

"He's without a doubt a very popular and well-respected educator. Ladies and gentlemen, I must ask you all to join me in welcoming to the stage, Professor Thomas Collins!"

The auditorium erupted in loud clapping, in unison with their automatic actions that really held no indicator as to how they were really feeling about this new stranger invited to speak in place of someone who was more respected and admired among the republican community. Devon turned in his direction, grinning like an idiot, and only Collins could see the malicious glint behind the warm façade in his evil eyes. He stepped out onto the stage and casually walked forward; accepting the extended hand of his colleague in his own and the two men shook hands.

"Good luck," Devon muttered, still smiling. "You'll need it."

"Whatever you say, _boss_," Collins replied through clenched teeth. "Just prepare yourself."

The two men parted ways and Collins stepped up to the podium, unfolding the papers which contained the words he was meant to speak… the clapping quickly died down and silence consumed the large room. Over 200 pairs of eyes stared up at him, expecting to be dazzled by his words of wisdom. Ha. If only they new…

Collins stared down at the pieces of paper, with nothing in his mind except Angel. Angel… what would Angel do in this situation? Probably dance around in his Santa drag outfit, singing about killing dogs and how life is meant to be lived for the moment… but that wasn't who Collins was. The words seemed to mingle together into gibberish on the paper, with no sense whatsoever. His mind was blank as to what to say, and the sweat from his palms and his face dripped onto the words, smudging them further. _God damn lights_. He the looked up at he crowd… a few murmurs here and then, even a couple of suspicious looks… Devon nervously stood just off the stage.

"What the hell is his problem?" a female colleague asked. "He's just standing there…"

"Probably missing his boyfriend," Devon replied, a bit louder than he intended. It wasn't hard for him to work out who Angel was… nor was it easy for him to hide his homophobic tendencies. He had it in mind to expose Collins right there and then, but no – he had to be civil about this. Mature. Subtle. "Another fag running around teaching our children… he shouldn't be allowed…"

"What?" the lady whispered shocked. "He's gay?"

"Wasn't hard to figure out. Dirty, unnatural…" his voice was dripping with disdain and disgust. It really wasn't even about Collins being gay, but he just didn't like him to begin with…

So why did he invite Collins to speak at a republican convention? Because it was the perfect opportunity for Devon to show the Board just how disgusting and bad it was to keep him around. All in good time…

Collins gazed out in front of him. Looking at all these people in their Armani suits and wearing diamond earrings; $500 shoes and even more expensive perfume. _That_ was disgusting… while he and his friends lived in almost poverty, struggling to find the money to buy food, these people were taking cruises and throwing $10,000 parties and attending all the social events of the season. No humanity did he see in their eyes; on their faces…

Looking down at the paper again, the words suddenly became clear once more however, he saw that those words had lost all of their meaning now. It was a lie. All of it. He cleared his throat.

"Okay, I started here…" he stammered and looked up and around at everyone. There was no way he could do this…

"Fuck it," he whispered and picked the pieces of paper up. Right there in front of over four-hundred people, he ripped up the lies and deceit. Truth, he always believed was non-existent in conjunction with reality. There was no one truth… just perception. There was no _one_ reality… just perception mixed with one's values. He needed to say how he saw it. He could hear some members of the audience gasping and murmuring quietly, still wondering who this stranger was. Collins threw the ripped up shreds of paper to the side so everyone could see them lightly fall to the ground.

"You know what?" he told them, this time loud enough for them to all here. "Devon McAdams… he's right. Talking about family values, and how things should be… the perfect world. But the fact remains, there is no perfect world. No matter what people like Devon McAdams say…" the tone of his voice was harsh and disdainful, and more muttering and gasps could be heard. Devon's eyes widened. What the hell was he doing? Collins grabbed the microphone from the stand and slowly walked around the podium, now standing in full view of the people he was addressing. He then sat down, dangling his legs of the side of the stage and sat there casually.

"Y'all wanna know why I'm here? Who I am?" he laughed bitterly. "You know what? So do I? Because right now, I don't have one fucking clue!"

The shocked reaction he was already getting from the conservatives was telling him that he was doing the right thing. That he was on the right path.

"But I also know that you'd all rather have the likes of Professor Davidson here. Feeding you all this bullshit of how the world should be rid of the diseased and those who force society down. Someone… like Professor McAdams thinks… like me? Maybe?"

Collins stood back up and shoved his free hand in his pocket. "I can stand here, and recite to you all this fucked up crap I've been told from the moment I arrived here… from the Board of this institution. From my superior colleagues. Don't get me wrong," he added, defensively. "I think this is a very fine institution. One of the best in the world. And… as some of you may or may not know, I was once fired from this great place for standing up for what I believed in. And there was that thing about me vandalizing some school property, but that's beside the point."

Everyone was stunned at his words, and more so the viciousness at which he said them. Collins smirked; satisfied that he was doing a good job. The anarchist was standing before a bunch of conservatives, ready to reveal his dirty background and all the sordid, evil, sinful things he had done. To the side, Devon and a bunch of other staff were fuming with rage, and Collins saw Doctor Halton in the audience with a look of absolute horror. Collins felt in his pocket something that could be useful in proving his point, and it certainly wasn't out of character for him to be careless and even reckless in pursuing his beliefs and making them known to whoever would listen.

"Some of the things the wonderful Professor McAdams said about me… I'm respected? Unique? Well liked? He also said some other things, I can't recall all of them…" he paused to think for a few seconds, knowing that this was only the beginning. "Some of the other things he said about me, I'm not sure he told you… I remember he told some others, behind my back, not more than a few weeks ago…"

He saw the smug look from Devon's face had totally vanished. If he was revealed to be anything less than a tolerant, model human being, then he'd be crushed. His reputation would be more than tarnished, it would be destroyed.

"Well… what he said I better not say here. Not every pleasant. But, did he also tell you that I'm gay? That I come from the East Village in New York City? That my theories of Actual Reality threaten to destroy the very foundation of beliefs that you people build so you can sleep at night, convinced of your goodness as human beings?" his voice had risen now, even shocking himself with the force and passion with which he spoke. Some of the muttering from the first couple of rows, he could hear clearly, and none at all were positive. But he didn't care. He was doing this for Angel now. He laughed.

"Oh but wait, that's not all… something's that not even the good Devon McAdams knows!" he was on the verge of taunting the audience. It was then that Professor Carmichael stormed over to him and tried to get the mic, but Collins held it from his reach.

"What are you doing!" he hissed angrily, his face red and puffed up from the rage. "Do you know who's in the audience!"

"I'm perfectly aware, Simon," Collins repeated. "Fuck off and let me finish. Or is censorship another issue I should hook onto my speech?"

"You son-of-a-"

"Yeah, I am," Collins interrupted. "And I can't even begin to say what you people are. Back off." He was a good foot taller than Carmichael, and had a bigger build so it was pointless for Simon to challenge him further, and reluctantly he backed off and Collins turned back to the audience.

"Like I was saying," he continued. "I'm sure there's heaps of shit Devon hasn't found out about me, so I'll save him the trouble and expense of having to find out. After all, who here wants a gay man running around teaching your children all the nasty things gay people do? Let's see, well… Angel. My lover. Love of my life, I swear, you should see him… a total character. Beautiful person. Right now, he's lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life, because my psycho ex-lover decided he wanted to get back at me for leaving him, and blah, blah, blah…. You know the situation. Anyway, while Angel was recovering, my ex's drug-dealing business partner, Julian, decided to finish the job. Only, he fucked up too and instead of killing Angel by slitting his throat, Angel lived! Yep." he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, like it was something that happened every day. Like it was normal. It was amusing to him to see how stunned everyone was, so he didn't break. It was all coming out now, and he was remarkably calmer than he thought he'd be. Staring out across that sea of people, all of whom were probably despising him right there and then in their moment of humiliation. Collins wasn't intending to share the recent tragedies in his life, but his friends were the best example of everything these people are not.

"And so this is where Devon comes in – he comes to the hospital and tells me that unless I want the entire Board digging through my background and basically making my life more hell than it already is, that I'd have to come here and speak to you lovely people tonight. Basically lie to you and tell you that all these bullshit ideals you have actually have some merit in my world. Trust me. None of you would last ten minutes. The dirt. The drugs. The not knowing if your gonna live or die; if the person your fucking is giving you virus that so many of you barely want to acknowledge exists… oh and that reminds me. I have HIV. Angel? He has AIDS too. Also, Roger Davis… my best friend… a former junkie. He's HIV positive too, as is his girlfriend Mimi who is, in fact, still a junkie. And then there's Maureen, the ex-girlfriend of Mark Cohen, my other best friend… and also Joanne, Maureen's girlfriend. Maureen left Mark for her. Then there's Benny, a former friend of ours who betrayed us all to become someone like you."

The sarcasm and bitterness and anger in which he spoke took everyone by surprise, and to see how people were reacting; telling them that this was _his_ reality, was a very satisfying experience. Not to mention the shit load of trouble Devon would be in with the Board. Collins leaned against the podium again.  
"Screw it. No matter what I say, none of you will get it… having society condemn you for being poor and following your dreams. I don't have the ambitions my friends to, but I don't want them to lose theirs. And that's all I see happening now… people who live a life of bohemia are the ones who need the help most and never get it. And you all go on to your cocktail parties, pretending like none of this exists… and those of you who do… look down at us with disgust. Contempt. Like we're the ones who are not human and aren't fit to breathe the same air as the rest of you." He removed his jacket and let it drop to the floor. Devon whispered something to a nearby staff member, who nodded and quickly turned and left.

"And you know what I say to that? To Devon McAdams? To the pretentious bullshit that people like Doctor Halton spit out? Fuck you. I betrayed my Angel once, and came back here to escape my past… but being here only let my past consume me again and it almost killed the one person I love. So fuck it. Screw the politics, because I wouldn't give up Angel or my friends for anything. I wouldn't give up the life we share together, as a family… for anything."

Collins again stopped, this time to take out what was in his pocket. A lighter. Come on, you can all see where this was going… giving an anarchist something that could cause destruction and still get his point across, was like giving a vampire the keys to a blood bank.

"There's an old saying we have in the East Village… my friends and I didn't really believe in it until Angel came into our lives. No day but today. Forget regret, or life is yours to miss. People like you spend all your time condemning us; treating us like shit, instead of making yourselves useful. I don't care. You can judge Angel for yourself. He's a street-drumming drag queen with AIDS. But he's the only person I've ever known to really know what the meaning of love is – and he tries to spread it wherever he goes. Some of you might think he tries to spread the virus wherever he goes, because according to the republican stance – all gays are dirty, vulgar perverts who wanna kidnap their children, do nasty and disgusting things to them, and perform in hardcore gay porno movies and spread a virus. But that's not Angel. That's not us. Angel and I share something that none of you could understand," he fingered the edge of the lighter. You might be wondering why no one was stopping this, and the answer is because everyone was so damn shocked… stunned by his words. Even Devon. Silence…

"The love I have with Angel is not gonna last forever. Angel will probably die before me. Ironically, probably not from having his throat slit… but because he was stupid. And reckless. Just like me," he started flicking the lighter on and off. It was a fact Collins had only recently accepted, and now he wanted to make everyone minute with his Angel count.

"So to hell with it all. Y'all can have your cocktail parties and luxury cruises or whatever. None of you know what it's like to live your life for no other reason than survival. And love. Love's the most important thing… that and friendship. My purpose for living is those two very reasons, and that's all I need. All I want."

Devon was fuming, and was about to storm the stage, but another person held him back. As bad as things were looking, everyone was hooked on Collins' words, and there were, of course, the news cameras rolling. Well, this was certainly gonna make good news, at least.

"I fucked up," Collins scoffed. "A lot of things in my life are my fault. The HIV. Angel's condition. But you know something? I figure… it's all worth it if I get to have just one minute longer with Angel in my arms each night. To hear his voice. So I was never gonna stand up here and lie to you all… I'm everything you hate. My friends and I are everything you stand against and want to protect your children from, and that's cool. I understand. But you can't pretend it doesn't exist. That these problems aren't yours. They're everyone's, because the worse you treat people like us and the situation… the worse it gets. The less likely it'll be resolved," Collins flicked the lighter on once more and watched the flame.

"We can't pay the rent, but we still know more love than any of you can hope to know. The fight isn't worth losing anymore. You wanna win the war on drugs but don't wanna accept the responsibility of cleaning up the mess and helping those left behind. The problem isn't us. Y'all can fight it out between yourselves, because this ain't about us anymore. And this isn't something I wanna be apart of anymore…" he then lit the piece of paper on fire and watched it ignited.

On the paper was a list of the university's benefactors, a lot of whom were in the audience watching him… a very symbolic gesture. It was then that security guards came storming up onto the stage, and Collins dropped the piece of paper on the ground, near where the curtain met the floor and he simply looked at Devon and gave him a nod and a wink. Knowing he was no longer welcome, Collins allowed himself to be escorted from the stage just as the bottom of the curtain caught alight. There were plenty of fire extinguishes, so he had no fear that the fire would get under control, but the anarchist felt he had proved his point. The two guards held him by his arms and harshly pulled him away from the auditorium, and Collins could hear panicky voices and terrified women demanding the fire be put out. Needless to say, he had proven his point and never did Collins feel more proud of his achievements than he did now – and he didn't lie to Doctor Halton. He did deliver a powerful speech none of them would forget.  
At the end of the hall, Collins was shoved up against the wall where his arms were violently pulled behind his back and two police officers took over from the guards, slapping the silver chains on his wrists.

"Ahh! Fuck!" he grimaced, gritting his teeth. "Man, too tight!"

"Too bad!" growled a familiar and extremely angry person from behind. The two officers turned Collins around when he was safely secure and in their control. Devon and Dr. Halton were standing in front of him.

"Devon… Doctor…" Collins greeted, catching his breath from being thrown around a bit between the guards and the cops. Civil unrest is what the great anarchists aim to achieve. He was no different. And this was just the first step. "Told you I'd give you all something you wouldn't forget."

"You made a mockery of our distinguished guests!" the doctor fumed, almost foaming at the mouth with anger. If he got any redder, his head might explode. "You made us the laughing stock of the entire Massachusetts republican community!"

"Oh damn," Collins sarcastically taunted. "I was aiming for the entire east coast. I guess I'll have to try harder next time."

"Do you have _any_ idea what you've done!" Devon screamed. "You've humiliated—"

"Shut the hell up, Devon!" Collins interrupted. "Don't talk to me about humiliation until you get down and really experience it. My friends and I live through it every day, you have no idea what humiliation and degradation is! Angel was viciously attacked and raped in an alleyway," he choked up and bit his lip, wanting so desperately not to cry. "And the cops, they did nothing. Angel was humiliated. He was abused and almost killed! And no one did a damn thing, and you've got the never to condemn _me_! I'm not the one who has no humanity. You think that if someone's not as successful, that makes them not human, and you know something? Maybe you're right. You treat someone like an animal for so long, sooner or later they're gonna believe it. And Sam, my ex, he believes that it's an animal world out there and I don't think he's necessarily wrong." Collins was sick of this bullshit. It was ending now.

"You know_ nothing_ of humiliation. I stood up for what I believe in, that's how we live. For ourselves and for each other. Nothing else."

"You think you're some sort of hero? Some sort of speaker for the poor?"

"No!" Collins disagreed. "Not at all. All I can do is see what's happening to the one I love and see how he almost died because no one cared… I'm not the disgusting one here. You and your homophobic brethren can say and do what you want, but it doesn't change the reality of it. And then you, Devon, have the nerve to ask me, knowing what you know, to come _here_ and speak lies to people who hate everything I stand for, even as the love of my life lies in his hospital bed, fighting for every breath! You people hate everything I am! And you KNEW IT, you sick son of a bitch! You knew it! And you wanted me to be humiliated, well from the looks of it – on the faces of those news personnel… you're the one who has to wipe the egg of your face."

Collins made sure to have the last word in it all. Whether it was destroying a virtual reality equipment set or setting a fire, the anarchist always made his point. Devon opened his mouth to speak, but Collins got in before him.

"No matter what you say now, Devon… nothing can erase what just happened in there. Those people will leave with my words still fresh in their heads and there's _nothing_ you can do about it!"

The two cops then began leading him away, unsure of what to charge him with if anything. It wasn't the first time he had been arrested, and it probably wouldn't be the last…

He left Devon and the doctor to think about what he said, and was satisfied that now he could move on. His past was just that. His past.

**WITH ANGEL, MIMI, JULIA, MAUREEEN, JOANNE, MARK, AND ROGER…**

"Here, baby," Mimi placed the cup of water at Angel's mouth, helping him get the straw in between his lips. He had been able to gain a little more movement in his arms and legs, and was more aware of his surroundings however pain prevented him from speaking. But he was able to take in some liquid at times, and Angel was able to smile more and interact more with his friends.

Angel readily accepted the cool water as it rushed over his tongue and down his throat. It didn't hurt so much to drink as it did just to breathe, because they were two separate parts of the throat, but the pressure involved in swallowing did cause him to wince and tense up a bit. He grabbed Mimi's hand and she rubbed his arm, letting him know she was there. Roger sat on the other side of the bed, while Mark and Julia were in the corner, talking quietly again, and both Maureen and Joanne were sleeping. The night before had been the one moment where they all breathed again for the first real time in a week – seeing Mark's footage of Sam and Julian made it to air, and apparently caught a lot of attention as it was all over the news the next morning. Where the two drug dealers were now was anyone's guess, but from gossip around the hospital, rumor has it that the two of them went into hiding when their prospective buyers immediately took their business elsewhere. Sam and Julian were officially on the run. All of them were amazed at the footage Mark captured, and he was praised for it by all of them. Angel had remained asleep the entire time, which was a good thing, though they still hadn't heard from Collins and probably weren't going to (well, considering he'd just been arrested!). Now, it was the next day since the footage aired, and heading into the evening…

Angel sipped the water, and squeezed his eyes shut when the pain intensified. There was only so much the pain killers could do without putting him to sleep, and he had to wake up eventually so the doctors could monitor his progress. It wasn't so much pain as it was discomfort, but it still wasn't good. Once the discomfort subsided, he opened his eyes again and let them focus on Mimi who smiled down at him and wink, placing the cup on the side table.

"Better?"

He smiled.

"Good."

Roger was silently thinking, a typical brooding guy, but now he was even quieter than usual.

"Roger? You okay?" Mimi asked, seeing the concern.

"Hmm?"

"Something's wrong?"

"No, I'm good."

"Spit it out."

"What?"

"Get it out! Tell me!" she insisted. "I won't let it go until you say something."

"Collins hasn't called."

Angel perked up a bit more when he heard the mention of his lover's name, and turned his head just enough to see how Roger was reacting. Not very well. Mimi rubbed his shoulder affectionately and wanted to kill her boyfriend for mentioning this in front of Angel, who didn't need the stress.

"You know Collins, he can disappear and then suddenly reappear. He'll be back soon," she tried to remain optimistic.

"Well, whatever. He's gonna wanna see what's been happening."

"I know."

Angel wanted desperately to know what they were talking about, and everyone around him was going to great lengths to keep things quite. Fuck the stress, he was getting more of it from just wanting to know what was going on. He knew it was something to do with Sam and Julian, and that Mark had done something that was apparently really good but they weren't saying a damn thing around him! His entire body was aching and the discomfort of having to lie in the same position for the entire week was just more annoying than anything else now.

He knew the risks of trying to talk now, but wasn't really known for playing it safe. Angel opened his mouth and braced himself for the searing pain that was surely gonna burn in his larynx should he force the air to reverberate a sound. But feeling the pressure was enough for him to quickly shut his mouth again. This was gonna take a while…

Mark watched Julia stare out the window – she didn't look bored, but it was clear that she was trying to absorb all these events and trying to make sense out of them. How she was dealing with it, he didn't know… he couldn't see it, but it was an inner turmoil she was dealing with. Everything she knew was being challenged by everything she was taught over the years… she was always taught to cross the street to avoid contact with people like those she was sitting with now. That her father would cut her out of his will should she get involved with someone like Mark – no future, no hope, no Ivy League education, no respect for authority and the establishment. But all the bad things she was taught, none of them were true… or at least, what she was told was way exaggerated. These were some of the finest people she knew – not because of their bank account balances, or where they grew up, or how they lived… but because they knew unconditional love and friendship. Ties that bind, with no strings attached. And they were cool… not uptight assholes like the ones she grew up around her entire life.

"Hey," he said, softly, out of earshot of the others. "You okay?"

She looked up. "What?"

"Something's up?"

"Yeah – no… I dunno. I really wanna understand you guys… this place. It's just too hard, you know?"

Mark crossed his legs and leaned his head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. "Don't stress over it. You're not the only one."

"I don't get it, Mark. You see all this shit going on with your friends, and… I don't know what I'd do. You're really strong, you know that?"

Mark scoffed. "Strong? Me? Heck no. Just used to it. It's all about survival, really."

"Take it from a real outsider," she smiled. "You're doing well."

An awkward silence quickly followed and neither was in the mood to continue the small talk. Things were getting tenser between them for no other reason than they got along so well and understood each other better than others would think.

"Thanks," Mark softly accepted the compliment, though wasn't sure of the intended meaning behind it.

"Man, what a fucked up life," Julia casually remarked, tracing the edge of the window. "So why is it so damn appealing?"

"You gotta be crazy," Mark joked. "But I guess… here, no one expects anything of you. Am I right?"

"I guess. It's crazy because I've only known you for like a couple of weeks, and already I feel safer with you guys than I do back home. At home, everyone's got something to lose. Here, you don't. I like that."

Mark sat forward. "You're not a bad person because of where you come from, Julia."

"Then why do I feel so shitty?" she responded. "You never really know how big the gap is until you experience both sides of it. Doesn't exactly make me feel good." She turned to Mark, with sadness. "I learned a lot from Tom when we first met, and I immediately knew he was different. I didn't understand why until now."

Mark touched her arm and found himself not entirely disagreeing with her. His easy ability to trust her didn't mitigate the fact that she had grown up in a world which condemned his, so to ask her to forget everything she's grown up with wouldn't exactly be fair.

"You're a good person, Julia. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise – that's not what we're about."

"I don't think I'll ever be one of you, you know…"

"Probably not. Doesn't mean we don't like you any less."

Another awkward moment. Great. If this was how things were gonna be between them, then there wasn't much point in denying the inevitability. The kiss was nothing that was unexpected – it was bound to happen sooner or later (you all saw it coming, admit it!), but the experience of it made Julia's heart flutter and twist and turn. Neither she nor Mark understood what the attraction was, but feeling his lips willingly meet her own relieved her of the pressure of not knowing whether or not to make that first move. If anything, this would determine if anything was there that could be worth pursuing, or whether they should remain on friendly terms. Mark, however, was not sure of what to make of this at all.

"Whoa, go Mark!" Roger's taunting voice broke the serene, quiet atmosphere and the two of the pulled apart and put distance between each other, both embarrassed at being caught up. Roger and Mimi were staring at them, with shock and amusement. It wasn't very nice to tease Mark or Julia about this, but there was no resisting the temptation. Could it be that Mark Cohen was finally getting over Maureen?

"Nice work, man!"

"Yeah, yeah," Mark muttered sullenly. "Go to hell."

Mimi was trying to contain her giggles, acting like a school girl. It was a sweet sight, to see Mark and Julia hook up, especially under these circumstances.

"Aww Markie! Markie and Julia? So sweet."

"Ha, ha, ha!" Mark mocked and stood up. "Love the comedy act guys."

"Maybe you should film it, Mark, and send it to America's Funniest Videos," Julia commented. An easy way to distract themselves for what just happened. Embarrassed by the situation she was in, Julia hurried to the door.

"Where you going?" Mark called after her.

"Just need to walk. I'll be back soon." She left the room, leaving Roger, Mimi, and Mark there silently wondering what just happened with her.

"Wait up!" Mark followed her, as he didn't wanna be left to the teasing and taunting of his 'friends'. After he left the room, closing the door behind him, Mimi and Roger looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"What was that about?" Mimi asked in between gasps of air, she was laughing so hard.

"Who the hell knows?" came a weak voice from her side, and Roger andMimi looked down.

"Hey guys…"

Their jaws dropped. Angel spoke.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ I know I was supposed to add more to this chapter, but I figured this was a good spot to break the chapter. Collins' scene got a bit heavy and it dragged out a up, Collinsfinds himself in a bad situation and calls on Joanne for some help. Someone is attacked (not as bad as Angel, though). Angel speaks. Sam and Julian are forced to run. Collins returns to New York.**

**Sorry guys, I know I was supposed to put some of next chapter's parts in this one, but I'm trying to keep a consistency in how much I write per chapter. You're gonna have to wait to see who gets attacked.**


	24. Chapter 24

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 24**

**_SUMMARY:_ Collins calls Joanne for help. Someone, not Angel, is gonna be attacked and the reasons why will be shocking! Angel speaks more. Sam and Julian will return for this chapter as well. In this chapter, we learn something about Julia that may have some of you after her blood. It ain't gonna be pretty. Just another twist in this on going saga. You'll either love me or hate me for it afterwards lol. Enjoy! (And don't ask me what must've been going on in my head when I wrote this, because honestly I don't know!)**

**Note: I have had recent concerns over the Mark/Julia angle, and just so you all know, it has a reason. Trust me, it's gonna be good.**

**Also, I know that after reading this chapter, some of you are gonna question the validity of it all. Well, I know what I'm doing and it'll all make sense in the end.**

**One more thing – this is gonna be a longer chapter than the others, for which I apologise. I try holding myself to a strict standard, but this one kinda got away from me lol.**

* * *

"Julia, wait!" Mark called after her, and she stopped and turned around, looking both embarrassed and pissed off.

"What!" she snapped, pushing some strands of hair out of her eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened—"

"Mark, your friend is lying there in intensive care. I don't think it's the time for you to focus on anything but him!" Julia reasoned and wanted to get as far away from there as possible. Things were happening too fast for her, and with this impending thing with Mark… it wasn't worth the risk. Everything could fall apart and it would be her fault – she's already caused enough trouble as it is, and there was still the fact that she had obligations at home. She had let herself become so involved with this, that she was now in too deep and she wasn't sure if she wanted to be there. And Mark Cohen certainly wasn't making things easy.

"I get it," he replied. "It's just-- where are you going?"

"Home."

"What? Why? Because of what they said?"

"No. You just don't get it, Mark… this isn't my place. My world. I don't belong here."

"You belong here as much as anyone."

"Why are you pushing this?"

"Why the sudden attitude change?" he challenged back. "You wanted so badly to fit in and understand, now you're acting like you don't give a damn. Excuse me for being a little confused!"

The two stared each other down, both knowing that they weren't gonna go anywhere if they hooked up, but the fact that they were involved with what was happening to each other could not be overlooked. Mark wanted answers about who this girl was, just as much as she wanted answers to all the questions she had been asking. Julia shook her head in disappointment and didn't know what to say to that – he was right, she was screwing around, not deciding what she wanted to do. But things were worse than what she thought, things were too deep for her now and it was getting harder to resist the force of being pulled further into the hell her family and friends had warned her about when she asked about New York City. Standing there and seeing Mark waiting for an answer, she realised that there was none she could give – none that would make any sense anyway.

"I can't give you an answer Mark," she softly replied. "I just can't. It's too complicated."

"No shit. You go home now and there's the answer to your question about why things are the way they are here," he told her. "People running away from the problems they help to create. I thought you were here to support Collins."

"I was!" she cried. "I was, but I sit there and see you all together and I know I'll never be apart of that! So why should I bother?"

"If you're Collins' friend, you'll stay."

"Is it because of _him_ that you want me to stay? Or… is it something else? Another reason?"

Mark didn't respond. After that kiss, he was pretty sure that nothing could ever come of it except maybe a friendship, but that didn't mean he wanted her to leave any less. They were from separate worlds, and not all the time did that mean that romance couldn't develop – but in this case, it did. For Julia too, she knew that it would be foolish for them to become involved knowing the chances of it working out were not good… and other reasons, which she didn't care to share with him. Things weren't turning out as well as she hoped, but now everything had turned to hell and she couldn't get away from it. Sooner or later, they'd find out. And the worst thing of all? She had already grown to love Collins and his friends… they were awesome. But she couldn't disregard her obligations and what, in fact, she had to do – no matter how bad things got, she had to stick to what she had to do.

Mark dejectedly walked over to a chair and sat down, looking very tired and like he would fall asleep at any minute. Adrenaline kept him awake though, and he knew he had to get back to being at Angel's side.

"I just think you're too involved now," he finally reasoned. "Collins would want you here."

"Yeah, well… Collins' priorities aren't exactly in the right order now, are they?" Julia retorted with a little more harshness than even she expected, and it caught him off guard. "Angel wants him here, but he left again. That says something…"

"Don't you even dare," Mark cut her off. "Don't start. Don't say it."

"Say what?"

"That Collins is being reckless, because I don't wanna hear it." The sudden surge of protectiveness and the need to defend his friend wasn't a new feeling for Mark, as he would always jump to his friends' defense if the time called for it. But what was most confusing for him though was the sudden change in Julia's personality; her attitude and demeanor… now, she looked like she was hiding something and just wanted to get as far away from them as possible.

"I wasn't gonna say that," Julia insisted. "What I was gonna say was that he needed to stop worrying about his past and start thinking about his future with Angel. I don't think you'll disagree…"

"Very presuming of you."

"What's your problem!"

"What's yours!" Mark got to his feet. It wasn't a good idea to start a fight in the hospital, although neither were much concerned about that for the time being. "What's gotten into you?"

"Forget it, Mark, okay? Just go back with your friends."

"You know I can't do that. They're gonna wanna know where you've gone."

"Tell 'em the truth!"

"I still don't get why you're doing this!" Mark kept himself from exploding. This wasn't gonna be pretty. "Is it because of that kiss?"

"No," Julia reaffirmed. "I think we both know that nothing can happen. And maybe it's for the best too… just trust me on this, Mark. Just let it go – let me go home! It'll be best for everyone!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" _If only he knew…_ she thought.

"Mark!" another voice broke through the tension and brought them both back to reality. He turned around and saw Emily, the nurse, making a hasty approach with a very worried look on her face. Not bothering to acknowledge Julia's presence, she shoved a piece of paper into his hands. He looked down at it. A phone number. Emily's concern told him that this couldn't be good… great. More added stress they didn't need.

"Emily, what's up?"

"I just got a call. Apparently Collins has been calling here, asking for someone… he finally asked to speak to me, and they put him through on the phone at my desk, and he sounded—"

"Where is he?" Julia stepped forward, trying not to panic. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know. He just kept saying that he needed to speak to someone named Joanne. He said it was urgent. He didn't tell me why, he just—"

"Joanne?" Mark interrupted, confused as to what Collins needed with her. Not that he was surprised, after all Collins and Joanne are good friends, but the something must have happened… "Did he say anything else?"

"No. He just gave me the number. He wants her to call him back, and then he hung up."

Mark looked between her and Julia, and a part of him didn't wanna know what this new development was – whatever it was, Collins was surely able to handle it himself, right? He nodded at Emily, letting her know that he understood and she smiled sympathetically before turning to go back to the nurses' station. Mark and Julia stared at the phone number scribbled on the scrap paper.

"What the hell is that?" she whispered.

"No idea. Come on…" he started towards Angel's room again, but stopped when he noticed Julia wasn't following him.

"Julia? Come on, we gotta—"

"You go, Mark," she sadly urged. "They're your friends. Collins' friends. Not mine. As much as I think you guys' rock, this isn't any place for me." She walked over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, and then kissed his cheek, smiling warmly – but with an underlying sadness. "Go on. It's cool, you know it makes sense. Collins will understand. Thanks for everything, Mark."

Without waiting for him to reply and keep her from leaving, Julia turned around on her heels and walked away, leaving a very confused and disappointed Mark Cohen staring after her, wondering what just happened. She didn't turn around. Mark watched after her until she turned the corner and was out of sight – he wanted to run after her and try to convince her to stay, but his efforts would be meaningless. Anyway, now, it was too late – she was already gone.

Finally he managed to put one foot in front of the other again and, trembling, he opened Angel's door and looked inside. Joanne and Maureen were still sleeping and Mimi and Roger were staring at Angel, both of them with comical expressions of amusement. Mark stopped just in the doorway.

"Did I miss anything?"

That managed to get them out of their dazed condition and Mimi and Roger, as well as Angel, turned their attention to him. Mark walked in further, this time more cautiously… had something happened? Well, Angel was awake, so it couldn't be bad, or at least as bad as him losing consciousness again…

Mimi looked like she had been crying again and Roger looked like he had been punched in the stomach. Both stared at Mark in much the same way as they just had been with Angel, so the shock was still very evident and present in their systems. To have Angel speaking now, only not even a day after his surgery, was remarkable and totally unexpected.

"Ooookay…" Mark slowly added, and stood at the end of the bed. "Apparently I missed a lot. What's going on?" he shifted his focus from them to Angel who smiled up with him with a kind of serene, euphoric expression – peaceful, yet a still somewhat mysterious and even mischievous glint in his eyes told Mark that something big, indeed, had just gone down. "Roger? Mims? What's happened?"

They didn't respond to him but just looked at him. Angel was apparently amused by all of this, despite his still sleepy demeanor. Perplexed and wondering if they were about to pull some joke on him regarding what just happened with Julia, understandable Mark approached this with caution and even suspicion.

"Someone say something!"

Angel's smile grew even wider. He opened his mouth. "Markie and Julia sitting in a tree…" he softly teased. Mark's jaw dropped. Angel always loved to shock and make some sort of impact, and no doubt he was now… "Who couldn't see that coming?"

The same feeling of shock that had almost paralyzed Mimi and Roger only moments earlier had now done the same thing to Mark. Angel spoke? Mark walked forward, taking only baby steps and having a hard time believing it.

"Angel?"

Angel's smile diminished only a little and he became more serious. "Hey honey," his whispered. There was only so much he would let himself say, as the pressure on his throat when he spoke was intense. Angel visually inspected the state his friend was in. "Mark, you look like shit!"

"Yeah, thanks for pointing it out." Mark smiled and moved next to Angel, getting over the initial shock, while Roger and Mimi stifled their amusement. "Can't believe you're talking!"

"And I can't believe you kissed Julia!" Angel shot back, still teasing. "I knew you had it in you, Markie."

"Had what?"

"The balls the make the first move on her. Nice work." The strain on Angel's vocal cords was very noticeable, but he didn't seem to care that much or at least, he was hiding the discomfort very well.

That remark earned a few chuckles from his friends, and Angel's love for them only strengthened further – was he mad that Collins wasn't there? Absolutely. He didn't get a chance to fully understand why he had to go in the first place, and until he did, there was much resentment he felt to his lover. Angel looked to the corner and saw both Maureen and Joanne snoozing away; Joanne holding Maureen in a lover's embrace, and immediately Angel felt a rush of jealously. He really missed how Collins used to hold him like that… it made the situation worse, knowing that there was still the chance that it may never happen. There were still a lot of issues he and the professor needed to work out.

"Makes a change from them not fighting," he commented and turned back to the others. "Where is he?"

Mimi held his hand and rubbed the back of it. "He's um… he's still not back yet, sweetie. I'm sorry."

In his heart, Angel knew he hadn't returned and it would probably be awhile before he did, but still – he became even more disappointed and it wasn't hard for his friends to see.

"Angel, he had to do it," Roger added. "Some shit he had to take care of… he didn't have a choice."

"I bet he didn't," Angel whispered, bitterly. "He did it to me again…" it was clear that Collins not being here in conjunction with the memories of what happened with Julian were starting to take it's toll on Angel, as even he couldn't withstand the torment that those memories and thoughts inflicted. For all he knew, Sam and Julian were still loose on the streets and Collins wasn't here to make sure he was okay… although it was great having his friends with him, it just wasn't the same. Collins promised to protect him. And now he wasn't here. "Sam and Julian are still out there and he doesn't care…"

"That's not true!" Mark told him. "He does care… that's why he had to go do this. And as for Julian and Sam… I wouldn't worry about those assholes anymore."

"What?"

"Mark caught Julian on tape. Total confession and everything!" Mimi explained, excitedly. Angel was horrified. What? Was Mark crazy!

"Huh?"

"He called Alexi Darling and the footage got aired on Buzzline. Sam and Julian are running now!" Mimi was grinning now, though Roger and Mark remained solemn and subdued. Angel turned to Mark.

"Is it—?"

"Yeah, it's true Ang," Mark confirmed, nodding. "Apparently they've disappeared now – the cops are out hunting for them as we speak. Man, are they pissed as all hell, those cops… totally humiliated the PD. That's what they get for not getting off their fat asses to find them before…"

Angel understandably didn't know what to make of this – part of him should be so happy that those fuckers are gonna rot for what they did, and be grateful that Mark would risk his life and go to such drastic measures to make sure they got punished. But on the other hand, what Mark did was incredibly stupid, not to mention reckless… Sam and Julian had 'friends' they could count on to solve the problem…

"Do… do they know it was you?"

"Oh hell yeah," Roger said. "They found us at the Life Café just after Mark gave Alexi the tape. They know."

Angel's confusion didn't lessen. "How'd they know you were there?"

Roger and Mark both hesitated. Good question. How did they know where to find them? Sam had said that they expected both he and Roger would be at the hospital, and so how did they find out where they were, with the obvious purpose to confront them? Such questions were not thought of to be answered by either of the men, and it produced an uncomfortable silence. Angel indicated to Mimi that he needed water and she gave it to him, holding the cup and straw to his mouth. Drinking and relaxing at the soothing, cool liquid running down his sore, painful throat, Angel closed his eyes. After he finished drinking, he opened them again – this time they saw tears forming. The memories were just too painful.

"I want it over," he cried softly. "I just wanna…" he trailed off. Mimi was also on the verge of tears.

"Wanna do what, babe?" she encouraged him to continue.

Angel wasn't sure if he should say… it would only hurt them all as much as it was hurting him. He didn't wanna feel like this, but it was so hard not to. It was seeming more like he was being punished for being in love with Collins, and also it seemed like an even worse punishment _on_ Collins, who had to witness all this and not be able to do anything about it. The pain was unbearable.

"I wanna die," he whispered so softly that they all had to strain to hear him. His heart was wrenching in his bandaged-covered chest, and with each rise and fall of it from each breath he took in, the broken ribs were also forced to expand and contract – so it really did feel like his heart was killing him. Mimi gasped and clasped her hand over her mouth, trying to stop herself from sobbing, and Roger rushed around the side of the bed to her side, wrapping his arms around her waist. Feeling guilty that he couldn't do anything to ease Angel's pain, Mark's gaze fell to the floor. Sam was gonna rot for this… him and his junkie friend… Angel had officially lost his will to live, and that in itself was a tragedy, given that he used to spread more love and hope more than anyone. He was a true angel, who now had fallen.

**WITH JULIA**

This sucks. Why did they have to be so fucking charming and great people? It just made everything _that_ much more difficult for Julia to deal with, along with all the shit going on in her life now. Though, if they found out the truth about her, I'm sure they wouldn't be as nearly as accepting of her… but that wasn't what she was thinking about right now. Julia wanted to escape the torments of this city. Mark had been right… it sucks you in to the point where it really isn't any sort of life to want, or have. She must have been kidding herself to believe that this was something she wanted to experience for herself. Suddenly home – her friends and family – didn't seem as unappealing.

She hurried down the street, still feeling scared as she was not at all familiar with the city, but she had to get back to her car which was parked near the loft. Probably not the smartest idea either, but then again what did she know? Each second that passed meant it was getting closer to nightfall, which terrified her. Julia did not want to be left alone on the streets of New York at night time.

She quickened her pace and kept alert for any sudden movements, watching the people she came across… she had fucked up big time and was expecting to be punished for it any second. What she didn't know was that she would, in fact, be punished for what she did. Under the circumstances that she even knew Collins, and how she came to know his friends, it would definitely be considered a small world if you knew all the facts, but we can get more into detail about that soon, in due time. Spending time with Mark and all of them, Julia realised just what was so special to Collins that would make him so desperate to get back to the city, and to rekindle his relationship with Angel. They were special people; special characters that made life so interesting. And now she hated herself for what she did.  
Julia crossed the street, not paying special attention to anyone, but remaining aware of those around her. It was fear of reprisal she was scared most of, and was starting to wonder if it was, in fact, a smart idea to leave the safety of the hospital. Of course though, the hospital proved not to be as safe as she would've expected, considering Julian did actually manage to get through and attack Angel.

Not far behind though, a person started walking to catch up to her… things would end here and now. Samuel glared at the back of her head, knowing exactly what he was gonna do to this bitch. She was gonna pay.

Stupidly, Julia decided to take a short cut through a back street not too far from the loft. If she remained alert enough and moved quickly, what harm could come from it? Well, she'd soon find out. However, her naivety meant a failing of reason to deduce that she was in the middle of Sam's territory…

Her heart started thumping against her ribs and something in the back of her mind was telling her that something wasn't right. She stopped and turned around quickly, but saw nothing – no_ one_ – behind her. Reluctantly, she continued walking and pondered the stupidity of this decision to take a short cut, but it was too late now. Stepping over an old bicycle wheel, Julia wrapped her arms around herself, though it wasn't actually that cold.

Behind her, Sam stepped out from behind the shadows and continued following her silently… she fucked him over and now, since he was wanted by the cops for rape and attempted murder, committing a murder for real didn't seem as bad anymore. His life was already over, and he was gonna take Julia Sampson with him… not for any purpose but that she could testify against him and Julian, and that wasn't a risk – a liability – he was willing to let slip through his fingers.

It was then that Julia knew she definitely heard something behind her, and turned around so fast that she almost took him off-guard. She screamed when she saw who was standing there. The evil look in Samuel Michaels' eyes was terrifying… dangerous… deadly.

"Sam…" she stammered, backing up. He moved forward, ready to advance on her. This time, instead of a knife he had a gun in his pocket. "Sam, I can explain…"

"I bet you can," he cut her off. Then, as fast as lightning, he launched himself at her, and Julia screamed and tried to run, but she wasn't fast enough. From behind, Sam grabbed her by the shoulders and violently slammed her against the wall and turned her around so he could see the fear in her eyes – which he could definitely see. He covered her mouth with his hand and pressed the gun against her head while using his body weight to keep her still.

"You little fucking BITCH!" he screamed. "You betrayed me! You fucking whore!" he then let up off her a bit and slapped her, hard, sending her to the ground, sobbing. It was an eerily similar situation to what happened with Angel just over a week ago.

"Sam, it's not like that—" Julia tried to defend herself, but he grabbed her by the throat and dragged her to her feet. His superior strength allowed him to easy manage her and pressed her against the cold brick outer wall. Once again, the gun was pressed to her right temple.

"I tried!" she spluttered, gasping for air. Sam squeezed her neck a bit more.

"You betrayed me and Julian! You and Mark Cohen? You were there when he got that footage—"

"How'd you—"

"SHUT UP! You were there… and you didn't stop him. You let him take the tape to that Alexi Darling… you didn't tell me!"

Julia struggled against him. "I wasn't gonna help you kill Angel! I'm no killer!"

_SLAP_

Another hard blow to the other side of her face caused her to fall down again, and this time blood started trickling from a cut that opened up on her left cheek. Sam's psychotic side was showing its true nature. He then reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling up her sleeve to expose the underside of her right arm, revealing multiple injection marks (recent ones, too!) all up and down the middle of her arm. Just as he'd expected. She didn't hold up her end of the deal.

Okay, so you all may be confused as to what's happening here, so let me explain. Julia had been getting some fresh air outside the hospital after her initial meeting with Angel, when Julian approached her and they became friendly… and he made her an offer she couldn't refuse. Now, her arrangement with Sam seems to have been completely thrown out. It had been Julia who had given him and Julian the information as to where Angel was staying in the hospital, any patrolling nurses, and Angel's overall condition. It had been her who told them when Angel was alone and when the others were present. It had been her who informed them of everything they needed to know, including that it was really _her_ idea of the plan of Sam luring Collins out of Angel's room so Julian could go in and do his thing. Also, she had told them about Roger and Mark going to meet Alexi at the café, but that's as far as she would let herself go, trying to keep in tact at least one ounce of humanity in her bones. Bet y'all didn't see that coming.

Now, I know you must be shocked, and in your head you must be screaming 'WHY THE FUCK WOULD SHE DO THAT!' Well, the explanation isn't all that simple. A small world it is indeed. A little known and well-hidden secret of Julia's… a nasty, dark one that not even Collins would've suspected. She's an addict, and good at hiding the symptoms, and is the reason she's hated her time at home. So you can pretty much guess what kind of arrangement they made when Julian noticed track marks on her arms, and made a nice offer. He and Sam had observed her with Collins earlier that day when he first met her… so they decided that she was the best way to get to him. And they were right. Not to mention that she hadn't had a fix in days, so it wasn't hard to make the deal. Even though it went against every natural instinct in her body, and as much as Julia hated herself for doing it, she just couldn't resist the offer of a few bags of free 'goodies'. All those times when she mentioned how miserable she was at home should've been a good indicator to it all, but she hid it well. Most junkies, especially those from rich backgrounds, new how to hide it well. Basically the deal was – she helped them by getting information, and they'd give her free drugs. What addict would pass that up?

In Sam's mind, their arrangement had been that Julia would make sure that Angel wouldn't say a thing; that they wouldn't become a target of the investigation. And as far as he was concerned, she failed. She didn't do this because she hated Collins, far from it – she really liked him and Angel. But her friendship with him couldn't triumph over her 'needs'.

The thing with Julia is that she learned to hide her addictions so long that it was like second nature for her… and the results were devastating for Collins and Angel.

Basically, it was Julia Sampson who set up Angel to get attacked for the second time. Her relationship with Collins, and the fact that she got close to Mark, made it easy for her to get the information.

Sam towered over her. "You're already halfway to being labeled a murderer, honey. I swear, if Julian and I get done for this, you're coming too. And your addictions, your role in all of this is gonna come to the surface… and I doubt mommy and daddy will shell out money for lawyers for their junked up daughter."

Julia whimpered on the ground and stared up at him – the dominance; the superiority… the danger…

"I couldn't do it!" she tried to explain. "I couldn't do it! Angel doesn't deserve to die—"

"Angel deserves to die and you deserve to rot with him!" Sam replied. "You sold out your friends for some bags of coke and heroine… don't tell me you're an innocent victim here. Says a lot about who you _really_ are, doesn't it? Of course, I doubt Collins would be very understanding…"

"He wouldn't listen to you anyway!"

"Oh he will – it's only a matter of time before he's forced to connect the dots on who gave us the information on where to find Angel. Given complete access to his lover… who gave us all the information we need!" Sam wasn't smug. He wasn't seeking sweet revenge. This was real anger. And as we all know, it's not a good idea for someone to piss off a dealer of his magnitude… and even worse, no junkie ever wanted to get on the bad side of the person who was supplying them.

Sam roughly grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a seated position where she was sitting on her knees. Covered with blood and dirt, Julia couldn't even cry out for help – the sounds of her cries muffled by his rough hand covering her mouth. Well, she couldn't convince herself that she didn't deserve to die, but this way? When everyone found out what she'd done, she'd be lucky if they didn't hunt her blood themselves… especially Collins. She had forsaken their relationship, and Angel's life, for the few bags of coke.

"You betrayed us. And now you got the consequences, honey!" Sam hissed in her ear. He took his hand away from her mouth.

"Sam!" she cried, basically pleading for mercy. "Come on! I told you I didn't want any part in you hurting Angel! But what Julian totally went over the line! You told me he was just gonna go scare him!"

"Learn to walk the streets of this city before you decide to play ball," Sam advised her. "Julian did exactly what you knew he'd do. You just didn't care. All you wanted was your drugs. No wonder you hated your life in Massachusetts. Tell me, who found out about your crack habit first, your mom or dad?"

What had prevented Julia from stopping Mark getting the footage in the first place? Well, if she had it would've been suspicious to Mark in the first place – a very perceptive guy he is. In the second place, what difference would it have made other than probably Mark getting killed? No… she fucked up any chance with him the moment she made a deal with Julian.

Hiding her addiction could only last song long, and now the consequences, as Sam put it, had to be paid. Despite having been a brilliant student, slowly she had been sliding down further into her own torments, only held afloat by her relationship with Collins, as he breathed new life into her. Now, after everything, she was surely to drown… only God knows what he'd do when he finds out.

Sam now held the gun to the back of her head and leaned down so his head was next to hers, and she could feel his breath on her neck. But before he could say or do anything…

"Sammy!"

Julian finally found his friend, holding a gun to Julia's head… well; he wished it was him in that position, because he wanted to be the one that gave the bitch what she deserved. They didn't have time for that, though. Sam scowled and reluctantly let her go, but pressed his foot to her back and kicked her to the ground. Julia gripped at the grasses and started coughing from having the wind knocked out of her. Sam stood up straight and turned around.

"What!" he growled. "You told me to take care of her!"

"Change of plans," Julian replied firmly. "Donovan and Jeff just got themselves collared."

"What!"

"Yeah. They were on their way back in from a deal, and they got snagged by a couple of D's… Undercovers, I think."

"Those motherfucking incompetent, useless—"

"I know!" Julian said, calmly. "But we gotta bail. Everyone's scattered – Randy pulled his business, we're done here, man… set up shop somewhere else, but we can't stay any longer!"

To Sam, this was never really about business, despite what he told them. Leaving now would mean that firstly, they'd be declared as fugitives; secondly, they would have no where to go; and thirdly, his business with Angel and Collins would remain unfinished. He sighed and restlessly shifted his weight.

"What about her?" he gestured to Julia who was still struggling to get up. "You said—"

"We can't kill her. Let her go."

"WHAT! Julian, what the fuck have you been smoking!"

"She turns up dead, and they'll know who did it. It's not like we need to add murder to the list their willing to take us down for."

"What if she talks?"

"She won't."

"If she's dead, she can't talk!"

"Sam, she stays alive! Now let's go!" Julian wasn't as impulsive as his paranoid and psychotic friend, so it was easier for him to take the lead in situations like this, and Sam would usually follow. Sam looked back at her, and then Julian, unsure of whether to follow his instincts and waste her, or act on the side of caution and follow Julian's lead. He opted for the latter, and reluctantly placed the gun back in his pocket.

"Don't think we can't find you," he issued a dark warning to her before leaving her there, crying and in pain.

**BACK AT THE HOSPITAL – 30 MINUTES LATER**

Having no clue as to what just went down with Julia, Mark and the others stayed at Angel's bedside, determined not to leave until at least Collins got his ass back here, which was taking him quite a while. It was now dark, and nothing was indicating that he was coming back, or that there was anything wrong. Maureen had woken up first, followed by Joanne fifteen minutes later, and of course, both went nuts when they heard Angel was talking again – Maureen, being the drama queen that she is was absolutely crazy and offered to go get champagne and crackers, but eventually her excitement was contained, and the six of them were now together, just relaxing and being with Angel. It was when he put his hand in his pocket, and felt a scrunched up piece of paper, that suddenly Mark remembered something.

"Fuck!" he jumped to his feet and turned to Joanne.

"You okay, Mark?" Roger asked.

Ignoring Roger, Mark grabbed Joanne's arm, much to her annoyed protests, and dragged her out into the main hallway, closing the door behind them.

"OWW!" Joanne yanked her arm away and rubbed it. "What's the big deal?"

"I forgot something," Mark told her. He removed the paper from his pocket and forced it into her hand.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at it.

"A phone number."

"I can see that, idiot. For what?"

"I have no idea…"

"Mark!"

"Honestly, I don't!" he insisted. "I was out here with Julia; the nurse came up to me and said that Collins left a message for you to call him back. She that he sounded like he was in some sort of trouble…"

"And you _forgot_ to tell me this?"

"I know, I know! You don't gotta say it!"

"Oh really?"

"Well I was kinda distracted when Angel started talking."

Joanne sighed and shook her head, staring at the number. "Knowing Collins… he's probably got his ass thrown in jail or something. Where's the nearest phone?"

"Around the corner there," Mark gestured to the corner just over Joanne's shoulder. "Let us know?"

"Of course…"

The two then parted ways, and Mark returned to the room.

"What was all that about?" Maureen asked, thinking that they were fighting again… over her.

"Not about _you_," Mark replied. Maureen shot him a dirty look before turning away. He sighed and looked at Angel, who was still awake and like the others, watching what Mark was doing.

"I dunno if I should say this _here_…"

"Mark, honey," Angel's now raspy yet soft voice spoke up with obvious strain. "Just say it. Is it about Collins?" there was hope Mark could hear. He nodded.

"Yeah, um… I forgot to give Joanne a phone number… apparently Collins' got himself in trouble. Legal trouble, probably…" knowing that Collins would do almost anything short of putting people in immediate danger, to prove a point. Angel seemed to not care, maybe still angry with the fact that he felt Collins deserted him for a third time, no matter what anyone else tried to tell him. It wasn't like the first time, when Angel still felt he had strength in him… now he just wanted to give up on it. The dead look in his eyes was all they could see now, and no longer was he so easy to talk to or understand… just sadness and the loss of faith. They could see how much Collins needed to be back here if there was any chance of getting the old Angel back, and that chance was slipping away fast with each moment that came to pass.

"What!" Roger got to his feet. "And you had no plan on telling us?"

"Well I came in the room to find Angel talking again, just after I found out. It slipped my mind, I'm sorry!" Markdefended himself.

"Is he okay?" Mimi spoke up. Mark shrugged.

"I don't know. Joanne's calling the number now; I assume he's okay… who knows what he said at that convention."

"What convention?" Angel asked as Maureen applied a damp cloth to his forehead.

"No idea."

"Mark…"

"I'm just telling you what I know!" he said and sat down. "Look, Joanne said she'd tell us, so we just gotta wait, I guess."

**15 MINUTES LATER – 9:00PM**

Joanne walked into the room and almost immediately everyone sat up to give her their attention, and Angel in particular was curious to hear what she had to say. Without saying a word, Joanne walked over to the empty bed which her bag and her jacket were laying on, intent on leaving.

"Well?" Maureen prompted her. "Baby, what happened? Where's Collins? Is he okay?"

"Oh, you could say that," Joanne chuckled, biting her lip with contempt. "He's in jail."

No surprise there.

"Why?" Roger queried, removing his leather jacket.

"Officially, I can't tell ya. I'm his lawyer now," Joanne said, slipping her jacket on. "I gotta go to Mass. All I can say is that," a smile broke out across her face. "He's made us proud. That was some good shit he pulled at that convention."

"Wait, Pookie!" Maureen also got up. "I'll come with you—"

"Honeybear, you can't!" Joanne scolded. Roger rolled his eyes… pet names? "I'm going there as Collins' attorney; I'm gonna bail him out… We'll be back by tomorrow, okay?" she kissed Maureen and headed for the door.

"It'll be alright, guys. He's fine. A little pissed off, but he's fine. Rambling on about some shit of burning down their values or whatever; he was too pissed off to make any sense over the phone. But I'll let you know."

She left, leaving everyone else to wonder what exactly had gone down. Another tear slid down Angel's face. Forget anger. Forget regret. He just wanted his Collins back.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ I know, I know… I'm sorry, I just had to throw a twist in there to keep you all off balance. I felt the story was getting a little too predictable. This twist is something that I've been cooking up for about a month now, but had decided not to run with it, but then I changed my mind. This is how it went down – after meeting Angel for the first time (back at chapter 15 or so), Julia met up with Julian, whom she didn't know, and they arranged a deal. She set up Angel to get attacked in the hospital.**

**And the revealing part about it is that she is a junkie. It's my attempt to demonstrate just how well addicts can hide their addictions, I'm bringing some of my own experiences into this as I once almost became an addict last year, and no one suspected a damn thing.**

**But overall I thought it'd be a good twist. If you're finding it hard to understand or there's something troubling you, feel free to email me to talk about it or the story in general. In the next chapter, Collins returns to the city and learns of everything that's gone down. Julia confesses everything. Sam and Julian get caught. Also, a very sweet, tender Angel & Collins moment.**

**Please review, and I always accept constructive criticism. This chapter was just an experiment on my part to see how it'd fit in. I might change it in the future, I'm not sure. Also, I'll be going over it again to check for plot holes so don't worry if you find any. I assure you'll they'll be fixed.**


	25. Chapter 25

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 25**

**_SUMMARY:_ Collins returns to the city and learns of everything that has gone down in his absence; Sam and Julian get caught out; Collins and Joanne share a heart-to-heart. The Angel we all know and love is disappearing... You all will hate me afterwards, but I gotta do it.**

**Note: With the last chapter, I had character and plot problems, so I've fixed them as best I could, but forgive me if this chapter seems a little dull or whatever.**

**Special thanks: Daina! You know how much I love ya, right muffin? Thanks soooo much for helping me with this and other chapters. BIG HUGS you're the best!**

* * *

"I can't believe you almost torched the building!" Joanne exclaimed as they sat in traffic at the traffic lights, patiently waiting to go home. It was now just after midnight on Saturday morning and Joanne had gone to pick up Collins, now her client, from the jail cell he was sitting in. What were the charges? Vandalism. Reckless endangerment. Joanne was pretty sure she could get him off with just a slap on the wrist, but since he has a history with these people – and this state, it might be more difficult than she anticipated. As of yet, she still hadn't told him about the footage Mark caught or the fact that it had been aired on Buzzline, or any of it – not yet, at least. She wanted to wait until he was back with Angel and the others, as these past few days especially must've been horribly traumatic for him. Now, Joanne was just more annoyed with him than anything else… true to his nature, Collins had gone and stirred up a whole lot of trouble to prove his point. After explaining to her what he had said and done, Joanne still couldn't help but feel a sense of pride – Collins did what he had to do to let go of all his fucked up past and move on. And when she saw him, it was like seeing the old Collins again, which was refreshing… but their troubles weren't over yet, not by a long shot.

"It wasn't like I was _trying_ to," Collins defended his actions. "Just illustrating my point and purpose, that's all. Anyway it was worth seeing Devon getting screwed like that. Man, you shoulda seen it, Joanne. He was PISSED!"

"I doubt they see it that way."

"Yeah, well they see things in a rather skewed way anyway…" he stared out the window, sadly. "So how is he?"

"Hmm?"

"Angel. Is he still—"

"Pissed?"

"Yeah…"

"Ooh yeah." Collins' heart fell. Great. "But he's getting through it," she quickly added. "He'll be over it when you get back."

"I dunno… I've let him down enough…"

"That's putting it lightly…"

"Joanne!"

"Sorry!" she laughed. "Seriously, Collins, he'll get over it. He's still pretty fucked in the head, you know… with all the medication and stuff. Just give him time – he's had a rough week."

"Now THAT'S an understatement!"

"Just let him deal with it in his own way…" she hesitated. "There's also something that's come up with him. Not sure if I should—"

"What!" Collins perked up. What's happened with Angel? "Joanne, what?"

She sighed. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything, it'll just get him all worked up. Screw it.  
"Angel's talking."

His eyes widened. She didn't just say that… did she? Blinking with confusion, and a look like he had just been slapped, and he didn't know what to make of this news. Angel had started speaking and he wasn't there? It was like being hit by a freight train, that's how heavy that news was – numbness. What Collins felt was like what a parent would feel if he or she missed his baby's first words, it was painful… it was Angel's next step in recovering, and he wasn't there. Well, at least now he knew he wouldn't have any other obligations that would force him from his Angel and friends. He blinked away tears and regained some level of composure so he could speak again.

"He… he's speaking?" he whispered, dreading the answer. Joanne nodded and started driving as the light turned green.

"Yeah. Not too much, but he's stringing sentences together. I think he can remember what happened…"

"Did he say that!"

"No. But he doesn't have to."

Collins rubbed his temples. "What's he been saying?"

Joanne also felt herself choking up, remembering when she saw the lifelessness behind Angel's eyes. The giving up of hope. If Angel, of all people, could no longer find beauty in life, then what hope was there for the rest of them? "You don't wanna know."

"Joanne, I can take it. What's he said?" Collins asked again, this time with more force. It couldn't have been good if she was resisting like this. He wasn't even sure that he wanted to know, but it was better than having to wait out the entire trip not knowing whether Angel hates him or not. But the look on Joanne's face was really telling him all he needed to know. Why was this so hard for them both? If Angel really didn't wanna see him, he knows Joanne would've told him. Then again, who knows what was going on now. Joanne focused herself on the driving, and quickly tried to come up with some sort of answer that would satisfy him. She finally decided to come clean.

"He's losing it, Tom," she sadly informed him.

"Losing what?"

She hesitated. "His will to live… I can't see it there anymore… I'm so sorry…"

Collins bit his lip and couldn't stop the tears. His life had turned to shit in the past few months, and the only flicker of light there was, was being with Angel again – being able to regain his trust and for them just to be together. To hear that Angel was no longer the person he had fallen in love with, was terrifying and extremely painful to think, let alone deal with. Joanne reached across and held his hand, giving at a comforting squeeze. Instantly she regretted having told him, but at least he was prepared for it now. She decided not to tell him about Angel saying that he didn't wanna see Collins again, knowing it would be too much for him to handle right now. She knew why he had to leave – they all did – but Angel was in no position to be understanding right now… the fear he felt for Sam or Julian coming back, and the extra feeling of being abandoned by the man he loved, for a second time, was overwhelming and gave him an excuse for being the way he was. Would Collins get a chance to rectify the situation? Only Angel could decide that, but for now Collins was left to think about the possibilities… the possibility of Angel not wanting him anymore; of rejecting him again was never more real than it was now.

"I shouldn't have left him," he whispered, tearing up. "I shouldn't have done it…"

"Collins, you had to sooner or later. It wouldn't have been fair to either of you if you still had to carry around that baggage. It had to be done," Joanne tried to reassure him, but there was no consoling a broken soul who felt he lost everything. She had no reason to lie to him, so when she said that Angel was losing his love for life, and wanting to die, then that was it – it had gotten to the point where there wasn't much that could be done on Collins' part. But he had to try. "You can't blame yourself."

"Yeah I can. Angel needed me, and I left him… again…" he gazed out the window at the passing cars. "I've lost him for sure."

**WITH ANGEL AND THE OTHERS**

Angel was the only one left awake, and part of him was glad. It gave him a chance to think of what was going on, and to sort out his own self. Collins and Joanne still weren't back, and it was after midnight. Collins. Just the mere thought of his name brought so many angry and resentful feelings – deep down he knew that his lover had no choice other than to go do whatever it is he had to do, but that doesn't mean Angel had to like it. He couldn't escape the feeling of abandonment. The helplessness he felt, of not being able to move without having the pain tear through every organ of his body, was enough to make him depressed. But what point was there now? To life? To love? When it seemed everything in the world was against him… fate itself seemed to be denying the love and life he so desperately wanted, so why try to fight the force he had not hope of beating?

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down… earlier, he had only pretended to sleep so the others wouldn't constantly fuss over him, and it wasn't long before they all succumbed to sleep as well. The peacefulness of being in the hospital at night, when all was calm, was the only solace Angel could bring himself to accept. Everything else didn't exist to him.

The television remained on, with low volume, at his request. It wasn't much of a distraction – a cheap low-budget, late-night, low-quality film that was slowly turning into very transparent soft-core porn with not plot. It held his attention well enough so he didn't go mad with the boredom and loneliness of it all.

"Fuck you, Collins," he cried in barely a whisper. A tear slid onto his bottom lip, and the salty taste of pain and heartache was like poison to his body – but slowly, as he was feeling more of that misery, it was like he was building up an immunity to that 'poison' to the point where it was all he could feel now. If and when his boyfriend would return, Angel had no idea what to do or say – and he was scared for Collins to come back, because he didn't know how he would react. How just Collins' name made him react the way he did also made him angry with himself… he was losing himself. It wasn't fair. This was not what he had in mind when he approached the depressed, broken down professor on that cold Christmas Eve in 1989. Angel couldn't stop a small smile when he remembered their first kiss, and the time when he was first introduced to his friends – they were his world; his life, not just Collins. Looking around the room, Angel studied their faces and saw that all were content, at least… sleeping peacefully. Something which he could do.

He sighed and went back to staring at the television. Angel could remember the events that took place in the hospital days ago, very clearly… probably more clear than he should. But that wasn't what was bothering him. Somehow, he seemed strangely unaffected by those memories… it was something else… the memory of him not having anyone there with him, was what caused the pain. Earlier, Roger had told him that it had been a scheme between Sam and Julian to lure Collins out of the room, however Angel didn't know why Collins would leave anyway. The teacher had told him that no matter what happened, he wouldn't leave… and then he did. Angel wanted to hate Collins, but couldn't. But he couldn't stand to look at him anymore either.

"Dammit," he muttered, feeling a headache coming on. He reached over to the side table and picked up a remote-control like thing and pushed the button that called for some assistance. A few moments later, a nurse appeared at the door. A middle-aged African-American woman in a nurses' outfit smiled down at him, in a way that oddly made him feel a little safe. She was warm.

"What do you need, honey?" she drawled in her southern accent. Wearily, Angel managed to smile back.

"Umm, I got a headache," he told her.

"Say no more, baby. I'll get something for it," she replied. "I'll be right back. Don't you be going anywhere…"

Angel laughed weakly. "I'll try not to."

The nurse left, leaving him alone again. The nurse's warm reception to him did make him feel a little better for some reason – actual human interaction without the emotional turmoil that usually accompanied it, at least for Angel. He had enough of that to last about half a dozen lifetimes… but now he wasn't sure that he wanted to live out the rest of this one.

A few minutes later, the nurse returned and stepped around the chair where Roger was sleeping, and stood next to the bed, smiling down at Angel. She held out her hands, one with two pills and the other a small plastic cup of water.

"Here you go."

"Thanks," Angel gratefully accepted the medicine. He took the pills and quickly followed them by gulping down the water.

"How are you feeling tonight?" she asked, deciding to check his vital stats while she was there. The nurse picked up Angel's wrist and held her two fingers to his pulse, while checking her watch. "Any better?"

"No," Angel replied. "Like hell actually. Sometimes I wonder if this is really me."

"Oh? How so?"

Angel shook his head. "I dunno… just doesn't feel real anymore. Doesn't feel worth it."

"What doesn't?"

"Life."

The nurse looked at him with concern. It wasn't uncommon for her to encounter patients who were feeling depressed or sad by their circumstances, but it's just how Angel worded his thoughts that caught her attention. Like he was giving up.

"Life's always worth it, baby. Always."

"That's what I used to think. Maybe I was just kidding myself. Or maybe I'm just a joke God created so He could have some amusement."

The nurse sat down on the bed next to him, and clasped her hands around his left one. "You're not a joke. I don't wanna know what's made you feel like this. But I do know that it must really mean a lot to you for you to lose hope like this, am I right?"

"Maybe."

"You suffered a lot, I know. Feel betrayed, do you?"

"Mmmhmm," Angel closed his eyes and relaxed against his pillow. It was nice to have someone to talk to other than his friends, God bless them all, but he just needed an outsider to talk to. This lady seemed nice enough though. Caring. "I just want it over. I tried to be as good a person as I can be, and now it's like I'm gonna die because of it."

The nurse patted his arm. "You're a good person because that's how God made you, honey. He doesn't want perfection… just that light inside you to keep burning."

Angel yawned. "It doesn't matter."

The lady stood up, realizing she had to get back to her paperwork, and to let this patient get to sleep. She made a mental note to talk to the doctor about maybe getting him a psyche exam done.

After she left, Angel went back to watching television, and as the minutes passed, he found himself becoming more restless and agitated. He hated feeling the way he did, and knew it wasn't right to blame Collins for everything, but that's what he was doing. If Collins hadn't cheated, Angel wouldn't have had to kick his ass out; Collins wouldn't have left and then returned, sending Angel's emotional stability out of control again and none of this shit with Sam and Julian would've happened.

"Bastard," Angel whispered.

The only thing that spared him from launching himself into a silent, mental rampage on Collins was when something on the screen caught his attention. It was a news update. Angel licked his lips, hating the sickly dryness of them from all the medicine he'd be taking and the grossly sterile environment. He reached over for his water when the newsreader started the update – Angel didn't really pay attention and focused solely on getting some liquid into him. But then…

"_And also, some late breaking news regarding the recent attack on a patient at Saint Michaels General Hospital—"_

Angel looked up. _Huh?_ He had no idea that this had hit the news so quickly.

"_In a startling turn of events since last night's airing of a taped confession by one of the alleged attackers on a patient at Saint Michaels Hospital a few days ago,"_ the news reporter read.

"_It is being reported that the two men believed to be the ones responsible have in fact been apprehended and taken into police custody. Here is Channel Six reported Andrew Salton with more information."_

Then another man, who appeared to be standing outside the hospital, appeared on screen holding a microphone.

"_In what has been an embarrassing and tragic time for the staff here at Saint Michaels General Hospital, when an Intensive Care Unit patient was brutally attacked while recovering from injuries sustained in an even earlier attack – his name is being with held for unspecified legal reasons –, it has also been a humiliating episode for the New York Police Department who have since taken massive criticism for failing to respond to a reported earlier attack on the same patient less than a week before. It is believed that the second attack came as a direct result of the first and failure of the police to respond. However it is just now coming through that the two men responsible have been caught as a result of a tip phoned into the police from an anonymous informant. The NYPD have declined to comment on camera, however have confirmed that two suspects are currently being questioned over both attacks."_

Angel laid there in stunned silence.

"_The patient, who's identity is being kept closely guarded, was initially admitted to the hospital in serious condition after being attacked off Avenue A in the East Village, where the crime rate is high and is a known drug and gang location, and was again subjected to what is believed to be gang-related retribution while still in Intensive Care here at this hospital. The hospital and police have since suffered intensive scrutiny, which has only been furthered when a tape aired of the two alleged men responsible confessing, on the popular late-night show 'Buzzline'. The patient in question is said to be currently in a stable condition after suffering massive blood loss. Again, just repeating, the two men who allegedly are responsible for the two attacks on a patient here at Saint Michaels General Hospital have in fact been taken into police custody. More information will be provided as it comes forth. Back to you in the studio—"_

Angel lost all concentration after that, and the news updated continued on, and he remained completely shocked.

Sam and Julian have been caught?

**3 HOURS LATER – 3:15 AM**

It had taken a bit of legal talk on Joanne's part to the Orderly walking the reception area, to let her and Collins go and visit Angel. Despite him being in Intensive Care, and the visiting hours weren't as strict for him, the orderly still was apprehensive of letting even more visitors into the hospital at such a late (or early!) hour. Finally, he had relented and Collins and Joanne were now on the appropriate floor, heading back to Angel's room. For some reason, Collins was feeling even more nervous, and terrified of how Angel was doing. Each step became heavier – even his own body was in agreement with his mind in that maybe this wasn't the best idea. Joanne had told him that Angel wasn't wanting to see him, but that didn't stop her from insisting that he come back to the hospital anyway. No matter how much Angel would protest, he had to be there. They had to sort this out. And Collins didn't want to leave his side again.

"I really don't think I should –"

"Collins, shut up, you're coming!" Joanne snapped harshly. She didn't drive _all _the way to Massachusetts and put up bail just for him to back out of seeing Angel now, twenty feet from his door. No way. She didn't need this shit. I know that sounds like a rather selfish perspective, but it was 3:15 AM and she was extremely tired. They both were. It's was a weird feeling for Collins, as he was basically just… afraid of Angel. Afraid of Angel rejecting him again.

Joanne opened the door and peered inside. Everyone was asleep. Except Angel. He looked over at her and his heart almost froze. Joanne. That must mean… Collins.

"Hey, JoJo!" Angel playfully, yet weakly, said.

"Hey, what are you still doing awake?" Joanne replied, still in the doorway, thus preventing Collins from getting in. "Shouldn't you be sleeping or something?"

Angel tried to hide the fact that he had, only hours earlier, discovered some shocking news and didn't want to alarm anyone. He smiled.

"I'm okay. Nothing some Prozac and a manicure wouldn't cure! And the hospital's too stingy for that!"

Joanne laughed, but her smile soon disappeared and she turned serious. "I got someone here. You wanna see him?"

To say that there were butterflies in his stomach would be putting it lightly.

"He… he's back?"

"Yeah sweetie, he's here."

Angel looked around the room at the others, who were still undisturbed by Joanne's (And subsequently Collins') return. It was late. He just found out Sam and Julian (hopefully) had been caught. Too much on his plate. So, he said…

"No."

"You sure?"

"I wanna sleep."

Joanne nodded. "Okay. We'll go get some coffee or whatever. See you tomorrow."

"You know it."

Joanne then closed the door again and turned around to tell Collins, but when she saw the look on his face, she knew he had heard every word. Without so much as speaking one word, she pulled him into an embrace and could feel the shaking of his body as silent sobs overcame his ability to say anything.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered. "He's just tired, you know? He'll be better in the morning, I know—"

"I shouldn't have come back. I shouldn't have left in the process…"

"Collins, don't!" Joanne hissed. "Stop this self-pitying bullshit, okay? I didn't drive for hours on end just for that, okay? Come on sweetie; let's get some coffee or something. There are some things I think you should know…" she took his hand and led him towards the elevator once more. There was a twenty-four hour open café just across the street where they could talk – she would tell him about everything. Mark's footage. Alexi Darling. Buzzline. Everything. It was obvious that neither of them would be getting any sleep even if they tried, so what better time then for her to bring him up to speed and maybe help him with Angel.

"Thanks, Joanne," he whispered as they waited for the elevator.

"It's okay," she replied. "It's okay… no need to thank me. Couldn't leave you stranded in Massachusetts when the people are out for your blood. Although it'd probably make our lives a hell of a lot easier…"

"Gee, thanks!"

"Anytime."

**MEANWHILE – NEW YORK POLICE DEPARTMENT, 14TH PRECINCT.**

Sam and Julian both sat in the temporary jail cells, having to spend the rest of the night there until morning, when they would both be arraigned for attempted murder – Sam for the first attack on Angel, and Julian for the second. There were also a mountain of drugs and gang-related charges, and Sam was also up for assaulting Julia and Angel, and raping Angel. They were screwed. The police had yet to get a full statement from Angel, but had managed to get ones from both Mark and Julia during the course of their investigation, and they were also very keen to speak to this Tom Collins person, who seemed to be at the centre of it all.

How the cops had found them in the first place they had no idea, and Julian silently vowed to find out once he was free and clear of these 'ridiculous' charges (which he was sure he'd be clear of – no way Angel would testify against him!).

Standard procedure dictated that two or more persons involved with the same crime, or in fact in different crimes, should always held in separate cells so they can't organize the same story, or at least get some sort of idea as to how to distort the truth and lie. Not that it deterred them in lying, but rules were rules, and so that mean that Julian and Sam never had the chance to consort with each other. Whoever ratted them out to save their own skin would be in deep shit once this was all said and done.

Julian laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking of all the things he'd do the asshole who'd put him here, and the thought of actually being found guilty never seriously crossed his mind. That's how arrogant and sure of himself he was and his faith in the criminal justice system – that is, his faith in how absolutely useless it was. It wasn't the first time he'd played the system; it had been a cat-and-mouse type game between him and the law enforcers, so it wasn't as if he was new to this whole process. Sam, however, never dealt with pressure well – as indicated by his earlier actions with Julia. He was over eager in killing her, and now that they had still been caught, it would've made the world of difference if he had killed her. They'd be up for actual murder. The murder of a rich white girl – therefore it was automatic, by society standards, that they'd both get injections. And not the kind they were used to. Julian was the type of person who would blame everyone but himself, and so certainly wasn't the kind to take responsibility for his actions… everything that ever happened to him _had_ to be someone else's fault. This time, that included Sam…

"Dead man," Julian whispered aloud to himself when his friend came into his mind. Him and Julia. Both were already dead as far as Julian was concerned.

He was the picture of evil in a community were good and evil; right and wrong had lost all meaning except to the outsiders who occasionally crossed paths with them. While Sam was often impulsive, Julian was the one who thought things through and only did something when it provided nice benefits to him and him alone. Whatever happened next, he'd make sure that once he beat these nasty charges, there would be a bloody trail left in his wake. He had sat back long enough, and now look where Sam's pathetically incompetent 'leadership' had gotten them both. Sam was still his best friend, and he cared about him, but Julian knew that this was a 'dog eat dog' world, and he would not let himself be thedog who got eaten.

**3 HOURS LATER – 6:20 AM SATURDAY**

Collins stared at the cup of coffee in front of him on the table in the café, just across the road from the hospital. He knew he had done some pretty bad shit, but he didn't understand why his friends had to be punished for it. None of this, he knew, wouldn't have happened if he had just been honest with Angel to begin with, and now all chances of ever having his life back with them were dashed. For the past three hours he had sat there, listening to Joanne ramble on about Sam and Julian being caught on tape by Mark, the airing of the tape on Buzzline, etc…. but Collins just sat there, stone-faced. He didn't care anymore if Sam and Julian got caught. He didn't care about Buzzline. He didn't care about the police investigation. All he cared about was getting through this mess with some strength left. I know it should seem like he should be foaming at the mouth and wanting to find so he could beat both Sam and Julian into early deaths, but Collins was amazingly calm, quiet, and collected. In fact, he was a little _too_ quiet.

"Collins?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"Mmm…"

"What is it?"

He looked up. "What?"

"Well, I just basically told you that Sam and Julian are on the run. Everything's turning out good…"

"Is that what you think?"

Joanne was slightly taken aback by his calm, and cold, response. "What'd you—"

"You think it's gonna stop with them getting arrested?" Collins sipped his drink. "You think all these problems with Angel are gonna vanish once their gone? That everything's gonna go back to normal?"

Joanne sat back. He was right. Again. With Sam and Julian getting punished, it wouldn't relieve the pain and damage they've already caused and that Angel was still in a very vulnerable position. Angel and Collins have been torn apart again. The entire group was now at a stage where anything could happen, and they were still yet to find out about Julia's role in all of this – which would surely be seen by Collins as the ultimate act of betrayal, and the guilt that would accompany him for actually being the one to let her meet Angel and a whole other range of emotions. But that was still to come.

"Joanne, Angel's gonna have the scars for the rest of his life… however long that might be. You'd think I'd be happy knowing that Sam and Julian's lives are probably over? It's not like that at all…"

As much as he wanted to, Collins couldn't feel happiness. Or a sense of satisfaction. Definitely not justice. If this was justice, then justice could only be served after a heavy price is paid – and they had paid enough of it alright. He had no faith in it. A new perspective for someone who was tormented to the brink of madness only held back from falling off that edge with Angel's very survival. If Angel had died… they all would've fallen apart.

"I didn't think of it like that," Joanne admitted softly.

"Don't worry. I don't think any of us did," Collins reassured her. "I didn't… not until I heard what Angel just said. Kinda put a whole lot of things into perspective."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't know if there's anything I can do anymore… it's too exhausting…"

"Too exhausting to fight for Angel?"

"At the moment? Yes." He was being brutally honest and Joanne wasn't liking it. "I can only fight for something that he wants too. I can't fight for a relationship only one of us wants. I want more than anything… I need more than anything… to be with him. For us to be together. But I know now that it's Angel's needs that are more important, and I'll never deny him that… ever."

If you think Angel was sounding defeated, this was ten times worse. For so long Collins had been fighting to get his lover back, and so now hearing that both of them were on the verge of giving up was nothing short of… heartbreaking.

"If Angel doesn't want it, I can't force him, Joanne."

"But you two have been fighting for it for so long! Look at all the shit you've both gone through this past week to prove it!" Joanne desperately tried to make him see. "There's love there I don't think any of us could hope to know… not like you guys…"

"That's not true. You and Maureen have it."

Joanne smiled at the mention of Maureen's name, but it was one of sadness. "I doubt it. Maureen isn't the monogamous type. Mark tried to tell me but I had to find out the hard way."

Collins nodded. "I wouldn't take advice from the ex of my lover either. But you two always find your way back to each other, right?"

Realising what he was saying, Joanne's smile widened. "Right. You know, for someone who almost torched a building, you make a lot of sense."

"After what happened tonight, I should hope I do," he agreed. "But in all serious, girl you do have it with Maureen. I've known her along time; it just takes time with her."

"I know."

Collins' calm demeanor even worried himself, but had long since resigned to the notion that Angel may very well now want him out of his life for good. And Collins firmly believed that if you love someone so much you'd do anything for them… then you should be selfless enough to give that person exactly what they want. If it meant getting out of Angel's life, so that Angel _could_ be happy? So be it. It pained him greatly to accept that, but at least now he was willing to make that concession if it need be.

"I still don't see why you won't fight…" Joanne explained her confusion. Collins shrugged and placed the cup back down, and then gazed out the window.

"Of course I'll fight. I'll fight to the death for him! But what I won't do is force Angel into anything else… I can't do that to someone I love. I accepted that they day I fell in love with him... the day we met..."

Joanne crossed her arms over her chest. "You love him so much that you'd leave him if he told you to?"

"Exactly. That's just it, Jo, I'd do anything for him… and I'll fight for as long as he wants us to. But if he feels he's better off without me, then… as much as it hurts me, I'd do it. Fuck, I'd do anything for him. If he told me to go find life on Mars, I wouldn't stop until I did. And tonight and when I heard him speak… for that first time, tonight… that he didn't want to see me; that was it. I realised how badly I've hurt him, and how none of this would've happened if it wasn't for me!"

"Collins—"

"Don't deny it, Jo, you know it's true. And I gotta make this right for him, and…" he met her eyes. "For all of you."

"Let us be the judge of that," Joanne told him. "Us, including Angel. You need to fight for what you want."

"I can't fight for something Angel doesn't want. And I can't force him to love me… I can't force him to take me back. I can't force him to be the person he was… it was me sleeping around in the first place that start it for him… when he began to lose himself, and _that's_ something I need to live with, and… I'm not sure I can."

It was hard enough for her and everyone see both Collins and Angel fighting an uphill battle to be together, but the odds they were facing were getting worse. That's what they were both realising now, and both were realising that they were only human… that they only had so much strength, and that there was only so much they could do.

"Angel loves you… but he wants to know from you that's he's protected! He can't take more heartbreak, Collins, you know that!"

"That's why it's up to him now. I'll talk to him," he said. "And I'll accept whatever decision he makes." The pain of it all brought up more tears… it seems like all he had been doing now when he thought of Angel was cry, and who could blame him? He didn't care what Sam and Julian did now… whether they escaped, or were convicted. He didn't care about any of it… he just wanted his life back. He wanted his friends back. He wanted Angel back. Collins understood what she was saying, about fighting for love… that the love had to be worth all of these tears, and all of Angel's bloodshed. If he left now, what would that say to Angel?

"I'm not leaving. And I've never loved anyone like I do Angel… he's my best friend… him being in my arms is the best feeling I've ever had. Those kisses. Those eyes. Everything…" he kind of drifted off into his own thoughts, visualizing a perfectly healthy Angel being with him again, in as much love as they had ever been. What he wouldn't give for that. A tear dropped onto his hand.

He and Joanne stood up after paying for their coffee, and headed outside, where the sun had just come up. Both of them looked like hell, though weren't concerned.

"He loves you, Tom…"

"I know he does. But he's the only one who can see that… I can't make him."

"Don't let him go."

He smiled warmly, now more than ever ready to accept Angel's decision. "Never."

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ in the next chapter, Angel makes an impassioned plea to his lover. Julia confesses everything, straight to Collins' face. Also be warned, before the end of this story I plan for _two_ deaths. Just giving you fair warning now!**


	26. Chapter 26

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 26**

**_SUMMARY:_ Word of Sam and Julian's arrest reaches the ears of one person... Also, Collins goes through a nasty psychological breakdown… this'll be good – well, not for him. But it's… different. Basically it's my take on how a person's mind can also become his or her worst enemy… how the most punishment and pain can be inflicted not from anyone else, but from one's self. Don't hate me, but I'm gonna BREAK Collins in this chapter. Don't hurt me! **

WARNING: Major Collins angst.

* * *

Being so early in the morning, everyone else was still asleep as Collins and Joanne entered the room, including Angel, who looked all but peaceful in his slumber. The torment and pain of the past week was certainly visibly taking its toll, and it was crushing to have to witness it and still feel responsible for everything happening… but Collins held himself together. Joanne closed the door behind her. The hospital certainly looked different in the early budding light of the morning… the light shining through the curtains and illuminating the room gave a sense of warmth. Possibly even hope. It made everything seem different and whether or not that was a good thing was yet to be decided. Collins sat down on the other side of the bed from where Roger and Mimi were sleeping, curious as to where Julia had disappeared to, but raise his concerns – she probably had to go home for a bit, which was understandable. Joanne moved over to Maureen who was sleeping on the empty bed, and just sat down, feeling the weight of her exhaustion overtake her. What a night it had been, and not exactly all positive either – with Collins' words still fresh on her mind, there was not much else she could think about other than the state of this group as a whole. Because if Collins and Angel could lose their love for each other, then what would that to the strength of everyone?

She kicked her shoes off and swung her legs up onto the bed so she could lie down next to Maureen, who didn't stir with the movement. Luckily none of the others were awake as neither Joanne or Collins were up to answering their questions, though he was already dreading what would happen with Angel. His acceptance of whatever Angel's decision would be was not a reflection on him – or that he was ready and willing to give him up, but like he said, there was no way that after what happened that he would be in a position to ask Angel for anything, especially something as important and potentially devastating as love. He also couldn't ask it from his friends either. It just wasn't fair or right anymore.

"You okay?" he asked her, taking off his jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just need sleep," she chuckled and wearily rubbed her forehead, massaging it as she felt a major headache impending.

"You?"

"Never better," he sardonically agreed. And turned to see how Angel was doing – which wasn't apparently all that good. He resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him, or touch him in any way, fearing the response just as much as the fear of exacerbating the injuries. Joanne watched him and saw the internal debate that was raging within him, and suddenly felt sorry for him. If she was in his position, she'd probably do the lawyerly thing and try think things through from a logical standpoint – but logic now, suddenly seemed worthless and not appropriate. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly decided against it and closed it again before she could utter a sound. This was something neither she, nor any one else could involve themselves in. This was strictly between Angel and Collins. Instead, she laid back and closed her eyes.

"Get some rest," she told him. "You'll need it."

Collins seriously thought about following through on that advice, but something was stopping him. Getting rest was probably the least of his concerns right now, and so seeing that Joanne had settled herself into a position for sleep, he decided against sitting down and doing the same. He walked over to the door and opened it slowly, hoping that he wasn't gaining anyone's attention. After turning back and seeing that he was in the all-clear, he slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Standing on the opposite side of the door, by him self, did end up providing the first bit of clarity he had experienced in days.

"Shit!" he softly cursed him self out and rubbed his face. Whatever he decided to do now, there was no hiding from the fact that it wasn't gonna turn out pretty. He slowly walked down the hall, watching the nurses and doctors and other hospital staff go about their daily business with little interest in what they were actually doing. Collins had been in and out of this hospital so often this past week, he was starting to feel like he'd never leave… that Angel would never leave. And he wasn't oblivious to the possibility that Angel wasn't out of trouble yet, and could still die from his injuries. In a dark, ironic twist in his mind, Collins even thought about the idea of whether Angel could die in the hospital from AIDS complications rather than his injuries – that would be ironic and even more difficult to handle.

Collins didn't want to be there when Angel woke up (as horrible as that sounds), but he needed to take this time to think of what he was gonna do and say once that inevitable time came when he'd have to look his lover (or maybe soon-to-be ex!) in his gorgeous, sad eyes. But how could you try plan for something that may or may not happen? You can't pre-plan human emotions. Well, that wasn't what he was trying to do… what he was doing was trying to prepare himself for whatever happened, though it didn't seem to be working.

A few minutes later, he stepped onto the elevator with the intention of going back outside for some fresh air, which maybe could help him think clearly. A further few minutes later, he was walking out of the hospital and onto the grounds, past the area where he had last been confronted by Sam – the painful memories and thoughts of when he was there with Sam; Angel was being attacked at that very same time. It burned.

Collins sat down on a nearby bench, and stared up at the brightening sky, this time not thinking of anything… just sitting there. Being.

_You only got yourself to blame…_ that nagging voice in the back of his head started taunting him. He didn't need his own conscience making this harder, but it was.Don't worry, he wasn't turning schizo… but you know what I mean, when you have your conscience telling you something when you otherwise think something else, right? That same type of thing?

_He almost died twice because of you…_

Collins squeezed his eyes shut and held his hands to his head. Was he losing his mind? Probably. Who could blame him after everything that's happened?

_It's over, you know…_

"Shut up…" he whispered harshly to him self. If anyone was to walk by now, then they'd probably be under the impression that he was crazy or something… he did.

_How can you expect him to love you now?_

In desperation to end the self-loathing he was inflicting on him self, Collins clenched his teeth and shook his head. Tears and sweat were indicators of the stress and pressure he was under, and the pain slashing through his heart was slowly making him bleed any last ounce of strength he had within.

"Fuck… make it stop…" he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He was doing this to him self, and there was nothing he could do to stop it! Even his own mind was attacking him.

_Angel deserves better…_

"Stop! Please!" he continued to verbally plea.

_You're worthless to him and everyone now… you're worthless…_

"No!"

_Yes_

"No… I love him…"

_He doesn't love you…_

"Lies!"

_Reality hurts. Actual reality kills. You know it…_

"Just a theory…" Collins sobbed softly, through clenched teeth. "It's not real…"

_You know it makes sense…_

"Go away!" he cried, wanting his mind to just stop functioning at this point. Maybe that's where he had been going wrong this whole time… he had been relying on what his head was telling him to do, instead of paying attention to his instincts. His gut. His heart. In their world, they lived each day by following their instincts, not the logic… logic didn't make sense in the bohemian world, because the bohemian world itself was not logical. It didn't make any sense.

_You can't escape it…_

"No!"

_You fucked up…_

"I know…" he cried into his hands, hanging his head.

_You're nothing…_

"I'm nothing…" he repeated his thoughts aloud; his eyes now red and bloodshot. The more Collins kept tormenting himself, the more he was beginning to believe it. He knew better, but the psychological process was working.

_It's over…_

"It's over…"

_He deserves better… more…_

"I don't deserve him…"

_He'll die and it'll be YOUR fault!_

"No! No…."

_Yes!_

"No!"

_Yes!_

"Stop!" he whispered, becoming weaker in his battle against him self. If you're thinking that Collins has cracked, well… you're right. He has. "Now… stop!"

_Angel is dying…_

"He'll get better…"

A person walked by and gave him a weird look, wondering why this person was talking to himself. The person didn't stop though, and just kept walking. Collins didn't notice. The person, a man, stopped for a brief moment and turned around, confused… and concerned. Did this person escape from the psyche ward or something?

_He won't!_

"He will… he will!"

_You're killing him…_

"NO!"

_Angel's dying…_

"God, make it stop!"

_Angel will die!_

"No," Collins breathed.

_YOU KILLED HIM!_

It was then that he let out a bloodcurdling scream and slid off the bench to the grassy ground, sobbing almost hysterically into his hands. It was official. Tom Collins had cracked. He was broken.  
Sitting on the ground; his whole boding shaking and trembling, racking with pain at each sob… it was clear to him now. Suddenly, his conscience disappeared and clarity was now his mind. Everything was so clear now, like a fog suddenly dissipating. It was clear… it was his fault. No matter what Angel said now, Collins knew there would be no way he could possibly stay and hurt him further… and that, in his mind, was what would happen if he did stay. He had it in mind to get up and leave now, but knew that would solve nothing and besides… he was too weak to even get back up to sitting on the bench, let alone stand up and walk away. It seemed like walking away would be the best thing to do, but not necessarily the wisest… after all, it was walking away that almost destroyed Angel and his friends in the first place. Not to mention him self. So what to do? There was nothing but confliction. He could leave, but that would serve no purpose than to hurt his friends further. He could stay and risk Angel never being able to recover.

Trembling, he gripped the side of the bench and tried to pull himself back up, but it was a worthless attempt – the weight of his body combined with the weakness and lack of energy he was feeling prevented him getting up on his own accord. He felt back down. Several passer Byers stopped to watch what was happening, though none moved to offer assistance, thinking that it might provoke him further or whatever. Collins was completely aware of their presence, but didn't care.

A few minutes passed before that first man who walked by returned to the scene, followed by two nurses, and pointed them in Collins' direction. The two medical personnel rushed to Collins side, and he only knew they were there when the female nurse placed her hand on his shoulder gently.

"Sir?" she softly asked, kneeling down at his side, remaining cautious to the possibility that he could snap. The male nurse knelt down on his other side, physically inspecting Collins for any injuries or signs of trauma. Nothing. Collins didn't acknowledge either of them.

"Sir?" she continued. "Are you alright?"

No response.

She looked at her colleague, who placed his stethoscope to his ears and pressed the other end to Collins chest after lifting up his shirt just enough, who flinched at the sudden coldness of it as it touched his chest. The harsh rise and fall of his chest told the nurse what he needed to know. This guy was under some major stress or something, because he was on the way to a psychological breakdown.

"His heart beat's racing…" the male nurse told her. "He's hyperventilating."

"So is his pulse," she concurred. "Sir? What's your name?"

Collins was in such a state that he couldn't hear her… he was blocking everything out. She sighed.

"Sir? I need to know your name…"

When it became obvious to her that she wouldn't get any verbal response, or even an acknowledgment, she looked at her colleague. Collins was slightly calmer, though was still breathing very shallowly

"Nervous breakdown," she stated.

"That's what I was thinking," the male nurse agreed. "Go get a wheelchair; we'll get him inside…"

She nodded and stood up, and then began jogging back towards the hospital entrance, while leaving the other nurse to care for Collins' rapidly deteriorating condition. The nurse, Michael Thomas, placed his hand under the man's arm.

"Come on," he soothingly spoke. "Can you stand?"

In the first sign of some sort of acknowledgment, Collins slowly shook his head, and looked up at the person who was at his side. In the hazy tears that blocked any clear, distinct visual contact, he then stared back down at the grass and found that everything that seemed real to him was now beyond his control. It wasn't real anymore.

"Sir?" Nurse Thomas continued to press. "Can you tell me your name? We're here to help you…"

Collins shook his head, and grimaced as his body froze, and then started shaking uncontrollably from the surge of emotional toil.

"No," he whispered. "Nothing can help me. It's my fault… everything…"

The nurse's heart wrenched at seeing how much pain this young man was obviously going through, and it wasn't hard to realise that a traumatic event must have taken place that would result in such a physical deterioration. How could he help someone like this? All medical personnel went through a psychology course, but this was way beyond the scope of his training. So, he just rubbed Collins' back and tried to be as sympathetic as possible while keeping a close monitor on his physical condition.

"Sir," he whispered back. "It's okay… I'm here to help you. It'll be alright. I just need to know your name… are you in any pain? Are you hurting?"

Collins shook his head again, and felt the energy in him almost dry up – the amount of pain being suffered could only be described as a suffocating blanket that would sooner kill him, and Angel, should things continue the way they were going. His chest was hurting so badly from the intense beating of his heart and the hyperventilating, as well as the stinging pain of heartache. If there was a Higher Divinity, then He must be taking some sort of sick amusement at this suffering… with no release of his pain in sight, Collins could not see how any one all-loving Being could do this to them. It wasn't like in the past two years they hadn't gone through enough, but this latest chapter in their lives was just bringing torture. Collins looked at his shaking hands, and curled his fingers to form a fist… all his remaining energy was accumulating in this one part of his body, and without warning he slammed it into the hard ground, and let out a scream in agony – suddenly, for a brief moment, the physical pain superseded the emotional pain, and gave some temporary relief. Michael Thomas was horrified at what he saw, and couldn't help taking a step back. Whatever had happened, he had never known someone to be hurting so much… and not knowing how to deal with it also presented some problems for him. After getting the initial shock, he reached out to him.

"Sir, I must insist you try calm down," he said. "It'll be okay, sir! Please… let me look at your hand!"

Collins was reluctantly let the nurse touch his hand, but gasped when an uncontrollably bad rush of pain almost shattered his body, and immediately he pulled away.

"No," he hoarsely protested. "No…"

"Sir, please!" Nurse Thomas' insistence became more profound. "Please… let me help you… please." This time he didn't wait for the man's approval, and crept forward ever so slightly so and took Collins' arm by the wrist. Not having the energy to resist (all of it had gone when his hand smashed into the ground!), Collins sat there, trembling and barely able to contain the crying, sobbing the pain that came with being an emotionally broken man, and allowed the nurse to inspect the injury. Already swelling was forming and the nurse could see that at least two or three bones had in fact been broken.

By this time about twelve or thirteen or so people had gathered to see what was going on, and were murmuring amongst them selves while looking very sympathetic and concerned. They probably wouldn't be if they knew who Collins was, and the kind of life he led.

Collins winced and groaned in pain as the very touch of the other man's hand caused enough pressure to send shockwaves of pain through his system.

Right at that moment the other nurse, Nurse Elizabeth Bryson, returned to the scene with a wheelchair, but stopped when she noticed the swelling around Collins' hand. She then quickly, and politely, made her way through the people who had gathered, and stopped just short of where the injured man was.

"What happened!" she demanded, again kneeling at Collins' side.

"I think he's broken a couple of bones," Nurse Thomas told her, keeping Collins' hand mobile and straight. While all this was going on, Collins still didn't may them much attention despite knowing that they and everyone there was focused on him. For him it was like getting struck by lightning… nothing else mattered, as all the senses were impaired to all else except the sensation of the fire-burning pain. That's what it felt like for him. Fire. Burning. Cremating his soul and everything about him that made him who he was. Why did it have to hurt so much?

"Help me get him up… he's had a nervous breakdown; he can't… or won't… move on his own."

Nurse Bryson obliged and took Collins' other arm and moved just behind him so she could help get him up. It took both nurses all their strength to get Collins to his feet, but finally they managed it after struggling, and were offered help by a few of the spectators. After Collins was seated in the wheelchair, Nurse Thomas stepped in as the one that would take him back to the Emergency Room. He wasn't totally disconnected from reality, but instead was choosing to ignore it now… for all he could focus was on that pain that was consuming him. The guilt. The fear. The REGRET. Forget regret? That wasn't possible anymore, to him… because everything that happened, and everything that was probably gonna happen, was just going to make him feel the regret.

As he was brought back to the hospital, Collins stared ahead and around him, at New York City continuing it's pace that never ceased, even into the early hours of the morning. The city that never sleeps. Given his experiences, he knew that clichéd phrase was not misplaced, nor wrong in its assumption. New York never shut down, and that was part of the beauty of it, and part of it's mass appeal. No matter what… this city was his home.

The doors to the hospital opened and he was taken inside, with Nurse Bryson at their side. She then went ahead of them, telling her colleague that she'd set up for Collins to be X-rayed and treated for his injury. Now, he couldn't feel the pain… the intense throbbing didn't bother him one bit anymore and the other nurse stared pushing the wheelchair in the direction that the other nurse had gone in just seconds earlier. The hysterics were pushed aside, now replaced with depression and a single tear sparkled under the lights.

"Stop…" he found his voice long enough to communicate to the nurse, after seeing something on the nearby television in the waiting room. "Stop, stop! Please!" he repeated, more firmly and desperately this time. The nurse stopped, confused.

"Sir, I must get you—"

"Shh!" he hissed, staring at the screen. The screen's images are what startled him, though straining to hear the words, it immediately impacted him. Sam and Julian were being dragged out of a police precinct, swarmed by police and news personnel.

"… _The two suspects who's names are being withheld by police, have been formally charged with the rape and attempted murder a patient at Saint Michaels hospital this past week…"_

Collins stared intently at the screen.

"… _also one of them has been charged with the assault and attempted murder of another person, a young woman, who's name is also being withheld. It is confirmed that the two men were apprehended after the police received an anonymous tip… more information will be provided as details become available. For Channel Six news, I'm—"_

He tuned out then, but remained surprisingly calm. After what Joanne told him, about the tape being aired and stuff, he knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught. But who was this snitch? Who ratted them out? Maybe one of their crew who was looking to deal himself out of a life sentence or whatever, but still… something wasn't sitting right with him.

Why he was so calm now, he didn't know… but tears were again streaming down his face and the nurse only could look at him with confusion, and hesitated, before continuing to take him to the X-ray room.

Collins closed his eyes and prayed for some strength to continue on. Life was just not worth living anymore…

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ I must apologise that I didn't do this chapter as I had previously planned – with the Angel/Collins moment and Julia confessing everything, but I decided to change it a bit, and that there was some more emotional pain I could inflict (I know I'm evil!) and that it was time to focus somewhat on the psychological trauma Collins suffers as a result of everything happening. I promise, in the next chapter it'll be Collins and Angel, and the confession. **

**Also, sorry for it being a relatively shorter chapter. This was basically a segue into the next chapter and the emotional climax between Angel and Collins.**

**Lol omg I can't believe it's been 26 chapters! Seems like so far away from when I started the first chapter… wow. My imagination is more creepy than I thought! Anyway, chapter 27 coming up as soon as possible!**


	27. Chapter 27

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 27**

**_SUMMARY:_ This is probably going to be the emotional climax between Angel and Collins, and it's gonna be pretty harsh that's just a warning. Okay, after Collins is treated for his self-inflicted injury, he reluctantly returns to Angel's room to 'face the music' so to speak – to come face to face with his lover. I'm sure y'all are ready to know what Angel says to Collins, but HAHAHAHA you're just gonna have to wait – it's at the end of the chapter. Tissues ready. Also, Maureen finds Julia in the emergency department of the hospital.**

**NOTE: I know I've said that this story is reaching its conclusion, but I've recently come up with several more ideas so it would be unfair of me to say either way right now.**

**WARNING: The end of this chapter is major sappiness towards the end. Seriously. It's SAPPY. You have been warned.**

* * *

Maureen and Roger had left to go get some food almost half an hour earlier and now Mimi was sitting on Angel's bed, talking about the latest pair of boots she was obsessing over and hoped to get with the tips she made at the Cat Scratch Club, while Mark and Joanne were both still sleeping. It was now 8:45 AM, and Angel couldn't help but wonder why Collins wasn't there… when he woke up and saw Joanne, he naturally assumed that Collins was with her, but as it turns out, he wasn't. Roger, before he and Maureen left, promised to be on the lookout for their friend though wasn't particularly concerned. Knowing Collins' history, it wasn't hard to deduce that he had simply gone of on his own, although given the current circumstances; it was weird how none of them showed any extra concern given his emotional distress. Combine the personality of an anarchist with an emotionally turbulent situation or multiple situations, and the consequences could be explosive.

Angel, still feeling the heavy effects of just waking up from a deep sleep, paid Mimi as much attention as he could, though found himself becoming more and more distracted with each second that elapsed when Collins wasn't here. If given the choice of whether or not to see him, he'd probably opt to _not_ see the man who broke his heart over and over again, sometimes without knowing he was doing it… but not knowing where he was at all was equally troubling. Despite all their problems, Angel couldn't stop loving him as much as he had tried over the previous three months, and that was the price he paid for giving Collins everything. A part of him still wasn't even sure if he _wanted_ to leave him, but it was coming down to a case of having to do what was best for him self.

"Ang?"

"Hmm?" he snapped back to reality upon hearing Mimi say his name. He looked up and met her eyes which had suddenly changed from light to concern within a matter of seconds. She knew something was up – and she knew what… or _who_… it was.

"Sweetie, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he reassured her with a charming smile. "Go on…"

But as much as he tried to hide it, even Mimi could see through the obvious attempt to hide whatever was bothering him.

"Angel, come on! You know you can talk to me!" she urged. "You need to talk to him, you know…"

"I don't have anything to say to _him_," Angel lied, snapping at her with a touch of vindictiveness and bitterness. Truth was, he had PLENTY to say to Collins, and most of it wasn't good at all – Angel felt betrayed by him on more than one occasion, in rapid succession, and not even he could withstand that level of pain anymore. For so long, it seemed to them like Angel was a real angel… unaffected by all the evil and hatred in the world. But now it was so obvious that he too was human, and that there was only so much that he could take before finally succumbing to said pain. Mimi wasn't oblivious.

"No, I think you do!" she insisted, holding his hand. "Though I'm not sure _he'd_ wanna hear it…"

"He couldn't even hang around long enough!" Angel choked up, though tried to rationalize his anger.

"He's not who I thought he was…"

"Baby, he's hurting—"

"And I'm not!" Angel's voice rose to a mixture of panic and anger. "You think I like this all the same!"

"Angel, I didn't say—"

"You didn't have to! You're not the one who's gotta lie here every day and have nothing to do but remember how I got here! You don't have to do any of that, Mimi!"

"No," she agreed, slowly. He was right… she couldn't imagine what it was like to be trapped and restricted by her own body, left to think about why it happened in the first place. "I don't pretend to know anything, Angel. I guess we're all just left to try making sense of it all.

"Nothing about it makes sense. NOTHING!"

To see Angel, of all people, losing hope and faith in life was a heartbreaking scene, and Mimi wasn't exactly the best person to try talking some sense into him. Everything was happening so fast that it wasn't making any sense, and it wasn't getting any easier… as time went on, Angel still couldn't be consoled and there was nothing she or any of them could do.

"Ang, we all love you," was all she could reply with. "And Collins loves you. He's just gotta deal with it in his own way, you know? He's feeling really guilty, baby…"

"So he should!" Angel hissed. "He can rot in hell for all I care!"

**MEANWHILE, WITH ROGER AND MAUREEN**

Sitting in the café, Roger stared out across the room at the families and other visitors to the sick and dying. The reality of just how depressing this place was hit him hard, and the idea that nothing would ever be the same whether Angel lived or died in this place was never more terrifying than it was now. What happened with Angel would ultimately decide what happened to this family of friends, and how they would relate to each other again. Angel was the force that brought them all together and so that understandably meant that what happened to him would resonate forever with the rest of them.

Maureen sat across from him, uncomfortable with the silence that was overwhelmingly screaming in her ears… she wasn't used to this at all. For the first time since she could remember, she wasn't the centre of attention nor could she ask for it. As selfish and materialistic as she could be, she wasn't a cold-hearted, careless bitch like sometimes she may seem to be. Especially since this was Angel… she adored him with every ounce of strength in her. For once, in her mind, the world didn't resolve around herself… her drama queen persona was nothing more than a façade, and this past week had forced her to reevaluate who she was – and what… and who… she valued most. Her friends… they were her family. And it would destroy her should this family fall apart. It would destroy them all. And the fact remains that it was now Angel's decision as to whether or not the family would remain together and strong…

"Thinking hard?" Roger broke the silence, idly stirring his coffee with a teaspoon. Maureen shrugged, sadly.

"Me? Thinking hard? What? Are you insane?" she weakly joked. Everything was so confusing for her now, and it wasn't hard to see that all of them had changed dramatically due to these recent horrific events.

"Wanna talk about it?" Roger offered.

"Not really. Not much to talk about…"

He eyed her cautiously and tried to pin down exactly what was bothering her. Roger sat up straight.

"He'll be back, Maureen. He's got too much to lose here to let it go."

"Yeah, well he was willing to let it go before," Maureen replied, agitated and visibly hurt by Collins' sudden departure before she even got a chance to see him. "Don't know why he'd change now…"

"Come on, that isn't fair…"

"No it isn't, Roger!" she angrily retorted, frustrated now more than anything. "It isn't fair that he'd cheat on Angel and leave us all without warning. It isn't fair that he just suddenly come back into our lives and screw everything up again – Angel's in hospital and he isn't here! He doesn't even have the balls to face him, or us, now after having left again. You're right! It's not fucking fair!" she was on the verge of working herself up into tears and covered her face with her hands. This shit was just too much for even Maureen to deal with. Seeing her distress, Roger abandoned his coffee and jumped up, rushing to her side and kneeling down next to her.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Maureen…" he apologised and pulled her into a warm hug. Maureen wasn't in a position to push him away, and accepted the gesture, flinging her arms around his neck and sobbing into his leather jacket.

"Come on, girl… it'll be okay…" Roger wasn't sure if he was lying or not, but knew those words of comfort would just fall on deaf ears. But what else could he say? He wasn't very good at this comforting stuff… that was more Mimi's or especially Angel's main talent.

"It's just too fucking much!" she cried. "It's like none of us are the same anymore, and it's scaring me!"

_Can't argue with that…_ he thought, but dared not say aloud. They had changed under circumstances that had forced them all to change, and it was now so bad that he wasn't sure if any of them could be the same after this.

"Don't know what I can tell ya," he admitted. "What do you want me to say?"

"I dunno… just don't lie about it. It's not gonna be okay, is it?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I can't say. Just gotta wait now…"

Roger pulled back so he could see her properly, and for the first time in… well, forever, he saw real pain and confusion in Maureen's eyes. That's how badly things had gotten now, and he'd be damned if he let it continue. So, impulsively, he stood up.

"Where you going?" she asked, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"Stay here," he instructed. "I'm gonna go find him…"

"I'll come—"

"No, this is something I'll do. Just wait here, he can't have gone far…"

Maureen bit her lip and wondered what to do. She didn't wanna stay here alone. "I'll go back," she said. "See how Angel's doin' and stuff…"

Roger nodded and helped her to her feet. "You gonna be okay? Want me to come with you?"

"No I'm good. You go find that asshole and bring him back to us, okay?"

A few minutes later, Roger and Maureen parted ways after leaving the small café, heading in opposite directions. Where Collins could be, he had no idea, but for his sake he better not have left hospital grounds. No matter how much pain he was going through, nothing would excuse him for not being there for Angel now and Roger could feel himself getting angrier by the second. Joanne had returned, but not Collins? It wasn't hard to figure out that he must've taken off again, and once again he probably didn't want to be found.

After making sure that Maureen was okay, Roger turned and started walking down the hall. Where to begin looking…

**WITH MAUREEN**

She decided to take a walk by herself before heading back to see her friends. This was the first time in what seemed like a lifetime where she just got to hang by herself and be alone with her own thoughts… maybe she could make sense of some of the things without her friends around to confuse her.

Maureen absentmindedly twirled her hair around her fingers, slowly walking and watching the medical personnel go about doing their own thing, not paying her much attention at all. The intensity that came with working in hospitals must be so intense, she thought. She could never do it. Firstly she was too self-absorbed, and secondly she hated the site of blood, and also the smell of hospitals… the smell of death mixed with life and anesthesia.

She continued walking, immersed in her own troubles and didn't notice that she had just arrived in the emergency department. The sudden increase in traffic and noise volume brought her back to reality and she stared at what was going on around her.

"Eww, gross!" she muttered upon seeing a man, bleeding heavily from his head, was wheeled straight past her and into what looked to be like a restricted area for medical personnel. In the main area, she watched a woman crying hysterically in a man's arms before sinking to the floor in grief. Across from them, a young woman was holding a child who looked to be no older than three or four, screaming in pain while the lady held a cloth to the child's head. It was an intense place to be, and hearing crying and screams of pain, while medical staff rushed to meet the needs of patients, and be as attentive as possible, was a surreal sight for someone like Maureen who always saw life for how she thought it was meant to be – fun and carefree.

"God…" she whispered, seeing a child of maybe ten years old being taken out of an ambulance. Immediately Maureen felt queasy and distressed when seeing the white blanket the girl was covered in being stained red. So much blood…

Wandering aimlessly forward, Maureen felt confused and definitely depressed at what she saw. It kind of put a lot into perspective for her. A lot of these people here were dying or were on the edge of death. Angel had a better chance at living than some of these people – some of these _children_ – but to think that a week earlier he had been brought here in under the same circumstances… as bad as it sounds, Maureen was glad she wasn't here for that.

It was only moments later, as she stared around the ER, that her eyes came to rest on a familiar person. Her jaw dropped. Julia was standing with a doctor, with a cast on her arm, her nose taped up and several large, swollen cuts and bruises on her face. What the hell happened to her?

Finally finding the strength to overcome the initial shock, Maureen started walking over to her. What was with everyone getting beat up like this? First Angel – _twice_ – and now Julia? Was Collins a magnet for violence or something? Of course, none of them – Maureen, Roger, Mark, Joanne, or Mimi knew that Sam and Julian had in fact been caught and so therefore couldn't conclude that they had anything to do with the injuries Julia had sustained._ Who the hell did she mess with_? Maureen wondered, stepping around a plastic chair and around several people and it was then when Julia noticed someone approaching her and the doctor out of the corner of her eye.

_Shit! Maureen…_

"Hey," she greeted, managing a small, fake smile. _She can't know… Please, God tell me she doesn't know…_

But the look on Maureen's face bore more confusion and even concern, than anger.

"What the fuck happened to you!" typical Maureen-type greeting.

"Excuse me?" the doctor looked between the patient and the woman who just walked up to them.

"It's okay, she's a friend," Julia explained.

"Oh, well okay. Well, here's the prescription," he handed Julia a small, folded up piece of paper. "It's a good pain manager and it's cheap. You can check into the pharmacy down the hall there. And make an appointment with your doctor for a check up, or if anything's wrong, don't hesitate to get back here, okay?"

Julia nodded, indicating that she understood his instructions and the doctor then quickly excused himself, leaving the two women to each other. Maureen crossed her arms.

"So what happened?" she repeated. Julia started to walk, but winced in pain and let out a sharp gasp.

"What?"

"Do I gotta spell it out for you!"

Maureen let Julia hold onto her arm for support as they moved over to a couple of free seats nearby. After she helped Julia sit, Maureen sat next to her.

"Nothing, I just… fell..." Julia covered.

_Is that the best she's got? _Maureen thought.

"Honey, I'm a drama queen and I know bullshit when I hear it,"Maureen rolled her eyes. "Come on. Out with it."

Julia's bottom lip quivered, and she wanted to see Collins so badly. Everything was just about to burst out of her – she wanted to confess all her dirty sins, but was afraid. Afraid of what they would do to her… afraid of losing Collins, a dear friend. Afraid of going to jail. Afraid of the consequences of her actions… she never wanted things to get this bad for them, and Samuel promised her they wouldn't. And now she bore the physical consequences of her hesitance… for even making such a deal with him and Julian. For selling out. For betraying her friend and his lover. And now, Julia was afraid that if she lied here to Maureen, then she'd be stuck with her inner turmoil forever, and if she confessed the truth about her injuries, she'd be forced to reveal everything…

Maureen saw the hesitance and knew almost right away that something was wrong. She became suspicious.

"What is it? What happened? Who did this, honey?"

_STOP WITH THE FUCKING QUESTIONS!_ Julia wanted to scream, and just get away from there. She had been hoping that she could get out of the hospital without being noticed, and it was just her luck that she would happen to run into Maureen or any of them just as she was about to leave. This was something she couldn't hide from forever. She shook her head. She wouldn't say…

"I got mugged," she lied again, instantly regretting it.

Still cautious as to the validity of that, Maureen inspected her injuries more carefully. Sure, they could be sustained during a mugging… but there was something else. Something not quite right about Julia's demeanor; she seemed agitated like she just wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible.

Julia cradled her broken arm and looked at Maureen with tears stinging her eyes.

"It's nothing. Forget it. I just wanna go home…"

Maureen sighed. She wasn't gonna get a straight answer. "Have you seen Collins yet?" she asked.

Julia shook her head and was grateful for the change of subject. "Not since before he left for Mass. Why? Is he back yet?"

"He is, but he disappeared again before we woke up. Roger's looking for him now."

"Why'd he run?"

"Because he's a fucking bastard that's why," Maureen snapped, brushing some hair from her face. "He doesn't wanna face Angel, I guess."

"It's that bad?"

"Hell yes."

That obviously wasn't the news Julia wanted or needed to hear – she thought things were going to be okay between Angel and Collins now, and now to get the news that things were falling apart even quicker, it only added to the guilt she was feeling and it was like carrying two ton weights around on her shoulders. Sooner or later, her strength would fail her and she'd collapse… she'd confess it all and probably not under the circumstances she'd like to.

"You sure you don't wanna tell me what happened?" Maureen tried again.

"I did tell you—"

"Hey, I may be a lot of things, but I ain't stupid. But you don't wanna tell me? That's cool. But don't leave at least without seeing Collins again. He wants to see you, I know that much."

Julia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, praying that the dizziness would end soon and that she could just go home. She didn't belong here… as much as this place and these people fascinated her for so long, she realised just how hard it was. How scary it was.

"I can't—"

"Just come on! Please? It'd mean a lot to him. And Angel."

_Great,_ Julia thought bitterly. _Another guilt trip. I don't need one…_

"Fine," she relented. "Help me up. But I do gotta go…"

"I understand," Maureen replied, hoping that this delay in her leaving would give hints as to what she was hiding. "Come on."

She stood up and turned back to help Julia too her feet. After muttering a small 'thank you', Julia looked at her watch. 9:15 AM. Hopefully she'd be out of there by at the most 9:30, Collins or no Collins.

**WITH ROGER**

The two men stared at each other, one looking guiltier than the other. Collins was nursing a broken wrist and a broken finger from when he slammed his hand into the ground, standing just outside the hospital entrance. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture from Roger. It hadn't taken long for the musician to find his depressed friend, however the mood wasn't exactly cheery when they greeted each other. There were a lot of built up hostilities and anger between them, both for different reasons.

"So let me get this straight…" Roger tried to comprehend what Collins just told him about the speech and almost setting fire to the building. "You almost burnt the place down, got arrested, Joanne bailed you out, you come back here only to learn about Angel waking up and speaking, and Joanne telling you about the tape, you go back to the hospital only to find that Angel doesn't wanna see you and then you had a nervous breakdown and you broke your own hand?"

"Pretty much," Collins replied, nonchalantly. "So these past few days have been especially shitting, Rog. I don't need you making it worse."

"Well you gotta go back, man. Angel's looking for you."

"He is?"

"Yeah. He's still pissed, but I think you two need to talk…"

Collins leaned against the wall and stared straight ahead of him – people walking along the sidewalk, cars zooming by. The freshness of the morning air was basically nonexistent in this city, or at least this part of the city. He looked at his friend.

"I'm prepared for whatever Angel wants to say… I'll accept it. But it's just not that easy, you know?"

"I know."

"I love him so much that it's hard for me to take that next step to learning that he possibly never wants to see me again. It's just hard."

Roger sat on a nearby bench and stretched out his legs and didn't know what to say to that. He could sit there and tell Collins what he wanted to know, or he could tell him the truth that he was probably right. Either way it put him in a position he never wanted nor intended to be in.

"Even seeing Sam and Julian getting their asses busted on T.V. didn't help…" Collins added.

"WHAT!" Roger cried out, totally surprised. Sam and Julian were caught already? He knew that the tape meant they probably would get caught, but he had no idea that it had already happened. Collins was slightly shocked too, at the intense reaction from Roger. He didn't know?

"Happened last night, I think," he explained slowly. "It's been all over the television."

Roger stared at the ground and made a huge attempt to comprehend what he had just been told. _No way,_ he thought. _It couldn't have been that easy!_ He stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of Collins, rubbing the sides of his head with his fingers. Collins was slightly amused at this reaction, though remained calm.

"Fuck…" Roger muttered. "That's insane…"

"No kidding. Those two never get caught for anything! They said it was an anonymous tipster who told the cops of where they were hiding or something," Collins further added. "Its deep shit, I know!"

"I'd have thought you'd be ecstatic over this!" Roger was even more confused as to why Collins was still so sad and depressed… why he was so reserved over something that could only be seen as a good thing. Collins' calm demeanor faded for a brief moment and became more serious. That very statement caused trouble for him, because it just reaffirmed in his mind that no matter how much love there was between him, Angel and their friends, they just didn't understand it. They were all now jumping to Angel's side, and Collins could even see now, on Roger's face, the resentment the musician held for him. That statement just proved him right even more.

"Of course it's good news," he quietly said. "But it's too late now. It doesn't make one fucking bit of difference anymore! Don't you get it! I screwed up my life, Angel's life – Angel almost _died_ because of me!" he brushed away the tears and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was sick of crying.

"I almost killed the one person I love more than anything! Do you honestly think I care what happens with Sam and Julian now! Whether they go to jail or walk free! I destroyed EVERYTHING and EVERYONE I love, and no matter what happens to them, I can't change what I did! This was NEVER about them, Roger! Never! So it doesn't make one damn difference to me!" he stared down at the plaster that was basically holding the broken bones together, while Roger suddenly felt some sense of guilt for not being as understanding. But then again, this is Roger Davis we're talking about. Being understanding was never one of his best qualities, was it? Collin pursed his lips. Sudden outbursts like this wasn't uncommon for him anymore, and it wasn't as if Roger's question really was a bad one – it's one I bet all of us thought at, at one stage or another. After all, Sam and Julian getting their asses hauled off to jail was what we all wanted. But Collins waited a few more moments so he could calm down, and then he turned back to Roger.

"I'm sorry, man. I am. But you gotta know… I've done so much already. You ask me why I'm so scared to go see Angel, and there's your answer. What the hell can I say to him that can make any of this better? This was never about Sam and Julian… I wanna kill them, but not for the reasons you think," he sighed sadly. "It's not that simple. There are things that I've done… that can't be fixed…"

"Running away ain't gonna help, buddy. You know that," Roger reasoned. "I don't think things are over between you and Angel. Even if they are, you gotta at least try to make sure they end right. Yeah, you fucked up but you can't keep punishing yourself for it… it's over with. Stop looking back. Just focus on trying to make sure it doesn't happen again…"

"It's hard when all I've done is hurt you all. I'm scared… I'm fucking terrified that I'll do it again… Joanne told me Angel is losing his will to live. Angel! Can you believe that? I've made him like that, and I gotta take responsibility for it…"

Roger approached him and put his hand on Collins' shoulder. He wanted the man to know that no matter what happened, he'd always be there to have his back. Without having to say it, he knew Collins understood.  
"You have. And I'm proud of ya for doing it. We all are. But don't walk out again… that always seems to be where you screw up..."

The two men seemed to be connecting the way they used to, and Collins was debating the pros and cons of going back to see Angel. If this was the end of them, he'd at least want it to be done the right way, as Roger said, and not because of him running away from his fears again. The probability, for him, that Angel would forgive him was next to nothing – if the roles were reversed, he'd like to think he'd forgive Angel but wasn't sure of that happening. Anyway, Angel would never be as stupid and reckless as he was so that type of comparison was moot anyway… it bore no answer that made sense.

"I take it the others don't know that Sam and Julian are caught? Including Angel?"

"I assume so…"

There wasn't much choice that he had – Collins had to go back. He had to make this right even if it meant facing his fears of losing Angel. It just seemed that as long as he didn't have to face it, then he and Angel were still together and in love… but with the reality proving the negative of that, he had no choice.

"It could get messy," he warned. "I mean, between me and Angel. I honestly don't know what he's gonna say…"

Roger smiled sympathetically. "You and me both. But it's gotta be done."

Collins didn't know how to express to his friend just how much he appreciated him – no matter how much Roger blamed him or resented him, he'd always have his back no matter what. Roger was loyal to the end and would never abandon his friends especially when they needed him most. Collins shook his head, not looking to what was going to have to come… but Roger was right. It's gotta be done.

**15 MINUTES LATER**

After a few more minutes of talking the two men slowly started into the hospital, with Collins dreading each step he took. So many mistakes he made during the past three and a half months that he didn't know who he was anymore, and of course he still didn't know about Julia's role in all of this… but worse things are yet to come, my friends. Muahaha! This isn't the last of the troubles for our family. It was like they were living in this damn hospital now, and it had been a while since any of them had been back to the loft. The sooner Angel recovered, the better for all of them… Roger was at least somewhat grateful that the tubes and medication would keep Angel from launching an all-out physical attack on Collins, like he did that first night they saw each other again.

Standing in the elevator, Collins nervously drummed his fingers on the metal railing, holding onto it for dear life. Roger watched him and his body language, getting the idea of how difficult this actually must be…

"You two lasted this long together…" he spoke up. "That's gotta mean something." He was trying to be as supportive as he would allow himself to be… this was up to them. The group was so close that if any of them fell apart, it would affect them all.

"You two love each other."

Collins kicked at the floor. "Sometimes love isn't enough."

Roger knew exactly what he meant, having had that same thing in mind last year when he was having his problems with Mimi. They managed to work things out against all odds, so it was just totally wrong if two lovers such as Angel and Collins couldn't get through this… although, Roger and Mimi never had an insane ex to deal with and one of them almost getting murdered twice in one week, after the other one had cheated on the other with said ex.

A few seconds later, they arrived at the appropriate floor and the doors opened – Roger stepped out first, but turned around when he saw Collins still practically glued to the hand rail. Rolling his eyes, he stepped across the elevator threshold so the doors couldn't close, and gave him a 'I-know-this-is-hard-but-if-you-don't-hurry-up-I'm-gonna-beat-your-ass' kind of look, but still Collins didn't move. He was terrified. Not just with facing Angel, but facing all of those who meant most to him – the ones he had abandoned and hurt… he didn't want to face their accusing eyes.

"Collins?" Roger said with concern. "Tom? Man, come on… you can do this. You have to."

"I… can't face them," Collins whispered, sinking further back against the elevator wall. He pressed himself firmly against it like there was no way he was gonna move. "This is too much, Rog. Too fucking much."

"And it'll be too much for any of _them_, including me, to handle if you decide to back out and run now. All you've ever done to Angel these past few months is run… he might very well do and say what you fear most, bro…" his tone softened. "But if you stay… if you prove to Angel that you're not running away from him again; that he means enough to you that'd you face whatever it is that scares you… that you'd face even more pain for him… if you give him just that much credit, I think he'll see it for what it's worth. Even if he does toss your ass out. You owe him that much, and you know it. If you stay… then things can be done the right way. And you told me that you wanted to make things right… and here's your chance," he paused. "Probably the last chance you'll ever get to prove how much Angel – and all of them – just how much they mean to you. I can't and won't force you to get out of the elevator. You're the only one who can do that, and I just hope you know that whatever Angel does decide… it'll all depend on whether you actually turn up to face him. That's all he wants… is for you to look in his eyes again without having to lie, or make promises you won't or can't keep... that's all."

That was about as sensitive as Roger usually got, so Collins had to take it for what it was worth as being very serious and very truthful.

"Okay," he mumbled. He hated to admit when Roger was right, so usually he didn't. "You win. Let's go."

He stepped off the elevator and Roger also stepped off, finally allowing the doors to close behind them. The two friends looked at each other.

"You good?"

"No. But let's get this done."

Roger was the first to round the corner and frowned when he saw everyone sitting outside of the room. Mimi, Joanne, Mark, Maureen, and Julia were all there. Collins followed behind him and stopped. Julia looked like she had gotten into one heck of a good fight, and only one name came to mind – there was no one else who would have reason to hurt her…

"Fuck…" he started jogging towards them, and Mimi was the first to notice his return.

"COLLINS!" she exclaimed and jumped to her feet. When he reached them, she leapt into his arms and planted a kiss on his cheek. Mark also stood up and Julia felt like she just wanted to disappear… she and Mark didn't so much as look at each other when she returned. Maureen also rushed to Collins.

"Sweetie we missed you!" both she and Mimi clung to him, almost forcing the teacher off his feet. Usually he wouldn't mind it and greet them happily, but he was in too dark of a mood to be responsive. Right now, he just returned their hugs while still staring at Julia.

"Hey guys," he said, but let go of them. "Julia, what happened!" he rushed to her and pulled her into a hug. The 22-year-old beauty did everything in her power to not cry.

"I just had an accident," she whispered, returning the hug. "I'm sorry…"

"For what, baby?" he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "For what?"

"Never mind. I'm okay. I promise."

"Collins, where the hell were you?" Mark demanded. "You ran off again?"

"I needed time to myself," Collins defended himself. He didn't need Mark starting shit now, and he damn sure wasn't about to let him try.

"What happened to your hand!" Maureen panicked, lifting up his cast gently. "What'd you do?"

"I had… an accident, too." Collins told her and didn't want them to start up. He was already wound up tight enough, if he was pushed any further he might snap and back out entirely.

"We've missed you," Mimi echoed Maureen's words, sadly. Collins turned back to her and saw the disappointed, saddened eyes that tore him up. Mimi was only just into her twenties now… barely Julia's age. She was only nineteen when he and everyone met her, and she had since come along way… but she still had that naivety and dark innocence to her that made them all fall in love with her to begin with. To see her, especially, hurting, was truly heart-wrenching. "Why didn't you call?"

He walked back to her and put his hands on her shoulders, and she stared up at him like a child would do with a parent or an adult if he or she was seeking some reassurance or protection… like a child lost.  
"I'm sorry," he told her, and only her. "I never meant to hurt you, Mims. You know that, right?"

"I know," she sniffed. "Just don't leave again, k? I don't think I could take it. I don't think Angel could take it." The two of them hugged and Mimi placed her head on his chest, crying just a little – she truly loved Collins and looked up to him, like a sister did with an older brother. He was always there for her when she had her rough patches with Roger and the thought of losing Angel was painful enough without having to entertain the idea that Collins too could go. Collins' heart flipped. And in a snap decision, he replied…

"I'm going no where, Mims. Ever again. I…" he hesitated. "I promise you." He then pulled back enough so he could look in her eyes. "I promise you. Okay?"

Satisfied with his answer, Mimi nodded and Roger wrapped his strong arms around her small waist, kissing the back of her neck as she let Collins go.

"I don't get it," Collins commented, looking around at everyone. "Why are y'all out here? I thought you'd—"

"Angel wanted to be alone," Mark quickly answered. "Said he needed to think. Can't say I blame him either."

"Go in," Joanne urged. "If he wants to see anyone, it's you."

"He _wants_ to see me?"

She shrugged. "Well, _needs_ to. Go make this right, Tom."

All of them stared at the screwed up professor expectantly. This was the time whether he would really face his fears, or turn and run again. Needless to say that he preferred the latter… but you know what they say – the right decision isn't necessarily the easiest one to make. So, he turned around to face Angel's closed door and stared at it for a few seconds, at the nameplate. He could feel six pairs of eyes burning into the back of his head and he bit his lip. _Why the hell is this so hard? What's wrong with you!_ His conscience was now scolding him instead of taunting him. _Why are you suddenly so afraid of Angel? The one you love!_

Collins took a deep breath and stepped forward, not being able to answer any of his own questions. He didn't know why he was suddenly so scared of Angel. He turned the doorknob and opened the door just enough so he could see in. Angel was awake and staring up at the television with an amusing look of confusion on his face, and Collins could see a very small smile. The first smile he had seen on Angel for what felt like a long time. Hearing the door opening, Angel's attention was broken away from the television, and his eyes widened when he saw who was staring at him. Immediately, without having a chance to stop himself, Angel felt the sudden desire and attraction for the man, which he felt for so long and couldn't get rid of. Collins then stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

_Fuck he looks so damn hot…_Angel thought.

"Hey," Collins whispered meekly.

"Hey," Angel also said with softness. Wow this was awkward, and wasn't gonna be at all pretty. For the next few minutes all they could do was stare at each other, both too afraid to say anything. Collins then decided to take the first step.

"You're looking so much better," he commented. "How you holding up?"

"Can't complain," Angel replied. "Seen better days, but at least I'm alive." He said the last part with a touch of sardonic amusement, like he believed that it was a crazy notion that he was still breathing let alone talking. It didn't go by Collins unnoticed. "You?"

"Torture. But, um… getting through it." Fuck this was so hard. Collins shifted on the spot uncomfortably, shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. Angel also looked away. Both knew that it was gonna come to this sooner or later, and both wished that it was _later_ that it had come, but they had no choice now.

"It's amazing that you're talking again so soon after—" Collins couldn't bring himself to say it and still, even as he worked up the courage to look at the love of his life again, Angel found it too painful to stare into those beautiful dark brown eyes that had captured his heart. "It's great you're doing better."

"I guess God thinks I still have a purpose here."

"Perhaps," Collins agreed. "I don't know…"

Another awkward moment.

"You can sit down you know," Angel weakly gestured to the chair next to his bed and Collins accepted the offer. As he sat down, Angel noticed the cast on his hand. "What happened?"

"This?" Collins looked at his cast too. Should he tell him the truth? Well… no more lies. Lying is what got them to this position now. Unable to keep control of the shaking, he closed his eyes. "Guilt. A lot of it."

Angel nodded, understanding. "I see. You gonna be okay?"

"Do you care?"

"What?"

Uh-oh. Here we go. Collins shook his head. "Does it matter?"

"Honestly, no," Angel spitefully admitted. "I was just trying to make conversation. But maybe we should just get this over with, as it's totally clear that you don't wanna be here…"

"Angel that's not it!" Collins insisted, both hearing the desperation. "That's not it at all! I was scared… terrified…"

"Of what?"

"Of you!"

"Me!"

"Yeah!" Collins felt like he was digging a deeper hole for himself with each defending word. He held his head in his hands and Angel saw his body shaking with silent sobs. When Collins finally looked up again, tears had again slipped down his face, though Angel held no sympathy… not at the moment. He was too pissed off. "Angel, it's not that… I wanted to see you…"

"Not what you said two days ago," Angel snapped, him self crying. Things were coming out now that would ultimately decide their fate together. Nothing, he believed, that Collins said would make him feel an ounce of sympathy and so no matter how much he cried or begged, this was it. The end. "I'm sure you had more important things to do at MIT, right?"

"Angel that's not fair!"

"No," Angel interrupted and winced at the sharp pain in his throat. "I'll tell you what's not fair. It's not fair when the man I love keeps leaving me and I just get hurt… each time… and then you can't even have the guts to turn up here without Roger having to go get you?"

Collins raised his eyebrows. "How'd you—"

"It wasn't hard to figure out…"

"Angel, please!" Collins pleaded and wanted to get his side across before Angel made any snap decisions about them, though already had the feeling he had made up his mind. "Baby, don't do this. You don't think I know how much I fucked up? I shouldn't be here! Because every time I come here, someone ends up getting hurt! Julia, I see, looks like she's just got her head smashed against a wall or something! And you know who I think did it…"

"Sam and Julian are in jail…"

"I know!" Collins cried, exasperated. "Fucking hell, Angel, I know! But who else would have a reason to hurt her? That is, of course, unless they didn't…" he stood up and paced the room a bit, with Angel watching his every step. "What do you want me to say?" he whispered, looking back at Angel. "Just tell me what to do."

Angel looked away again and his lip began to quiver… each time his chest rose and fell with each breath, his whole body shook with a loss of control. Dammit, Collins did this to him each and every time! He closed his eyes and let out a couple of cries… this wasn't the type of dilemma he had pictured him and Collins having.  
"I," he breathed. "Don't want you to do anything… I don't want you to say anything, baby. Everything's been done and said and things can't make things worse. Because," he opened eyes, wanting to see those eyes again as he said this next bit. "There's nothing worse than losing love. Nothing."

Collins' heart shattered right there and then, even though he had prepared himself as best he could for this type of answer. I guess a little part of him always believed that Angel wouldn't actually go through with it… that Joanne and Roger had been right in their saying that the two of them had been through so much together that there was no way either would give up without one last fight. He sank down into another chair and burst into tears, putting his head in hands again and crying openly… everything he had done – everything _bad_ he had done – had served no other purpose than to destroy Angel's life.

_You had it coming…_ his conscience taunted again. _He can't love someone who keeps hurting him! You're nothing!_

Angel slowly softened to what he was seeing, and hated himself for doing it, but he had no choice anymore.  
"I hate what you did to all of us, Tom. Not just me, but them too! Mark risked his life for me, and I can't get over that!" suddenly he wished he had some meds that could make him sleep or whatever, as it was like a never-ending nightmare he was stuck in. "I hate this! I hate all of it! And I can't help it, but I just keep thinking how easier it would be to die. And it's even harder to think that you did this."

Collins sat there and listened, but felt like stone and nothing was keeping him from falling apart again. He looked up.

"Angel, please baby don't do this… don't…"

"I wanna die. I just want to go now, Collins!" Angel cried, purposely saying it with viciousness so that the words could cut into the other man and hurt. He wanted it to hurt as much as he had been hurt in the past months. And it was working… Collins never felt as much pain as he did now, especially the hatred that dripped from each letter of each word coming from the person he'd give everything for, and almost did.

"This isn't me anymore, and I hate it! Everything you and me were isn't there anymore, can't you see that? There's nothing I want more than to stay with you… to be in your arms again. To kiss and make love like we used to. You have no idea what you did to me… the love… I was so happy and there's nothing I wouldn't give to have that again—"

"We can make it work, honey!" Collins pleaded. "I'm so sorry, God Angel don't do this, I'm begging you, don't—"

Angel then lifted his hand and weakly, with his index finger, he beckoned Collins to come over to him, and in a matter of seconds, he was at his bed side, holding Angel's hand and kissing his fingers. Joanne was right – there was a fight still left in him, and he wasn't prepared to let Angel go without a fight. This was going against everything he knew better to do, like accept Angel's decision… but Angel was jacked up on medicine and emotion right now; hurt and anger… certainly no basis to make such important decisions upon. Collins pressed his lips to Angel's wrist, feeling the warm skin against his lips and tongue was something he sorely missed and Angel let out a soft, emotional moan. This was making things just so much more difficult, and with his other hand he reached across and stroked the back of Collins' head while staring up at the ceiling. All the anger he had been feeling minutes before was now gone.

"Angel, sweetheart," Collins raggedly breathed against Angel's wrist, placing another kiss delicately there, just as tear fell there. "I'm so sorry… don't let this go, please! I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear I didn't… I told Joanne that I'd accept whatever decision you made, I told her that, but I—"

"I know," Angel whispered back. "I know… sometimes it doesn't work like that, Tom. This isn't about what we want anymore…"

Collins raised his head just enough to rest his chin on Angel's arm and look in his eyes. "What do you want, baby? I'll do anything, just please don't let us go…"

Angel burst into tears again and silently cursed Collins out for doing this and making it so hard. Inside, he was tensing up so much and the pressure on his rubs and throat wound was nothing compared to what this was now.  
"Honey," he soothingly consoled, which wasn't the position he thought he'd be in. Before Collins showed up, Angel convinced him self that he was so angry and that he just wanted to get rid of the professor out of his life for good. Now the decision wasn't so easy, and he wasn't so comfortable in being the sole one out of them both with this burden to carry. "I want you too. So badly. But it can't work… not again… I can't take it… I'm only human, I can't take that pain anymore, and I can't risk it."

"Every day… ever day I blame myself. I'm slowly killing myself from all the guilt, Angel, It's something I'll never get over, baby. Never! I can't lose you, baby, I can't… I love you so much," Collins was desperate now. This couldn't be happening, he couldn't let Angel go out of his life again… he did that for three months and it almost destroyed him. "I love you. You gave me life again honey… I need you… I don't know what to do without you. You're beautiful and everything I need in my life. Please don't do this. PLEASE!"

Angel bit his lip and tried to remain strong. He couldn't take much more of this – neither of them could.  
"Tom," he replied tearfully. "It's so hard, I don't know what to do…"

"Shh…" Collins sat up and moved closer to him. "Don't you worry about that – you just get better and then we can figure it out baby, but we can do that together, along with the others. Just don't let this go. I hate myself so much for what I did to you and I'll never forgive myself for it," he kissed Angel's hand again, and using his other hand he took a damp cloth of the side table and pressed it to Angel's forehead, after seeing the sweat and tension that his lover was carrying. "I'll do anything Angel, _anything_. Just tell me what to do, sweetheart."

Angel could never hate him, as much as he was trying to – it wasn't about not having the self-respect to kick Collins to the curb, but it was pure love that was holding them together… pure love that kept him from letting go. They were a perfect fit together and it was a match made in heaven, literally… for Collins, he truly believed he was sent his Angel. Now he had to fight to keep him, and he was willing to fight until every last bit of energy in him was gone.

"Tom, baby," Angel let his index finger trace across the handsome facial features of the strong man whom he fell in love with. Collins used his thumb to brush away a tear from just under Angel's eye. "Why'd you keep doing this to me?"

"Doing what?"

"I had myself convinced that I hated you when you walked in here, and now…" he whispered.  
"Now I can't imagine not being with you. That it'd tear me up inside to not wake up in your arms every morning… to feel your kisses. Why'd you keep doing this to me?"

Collins smiled. "Because I love you. And I'm not letting you go again. That is… unless you want me to…" he said the last part with sadness and despair, fearing that Angel was still going to leave him. Not that he could blame him. Angel's fingers brushed across Collins's lips, and he responded by kissing them. He then leaned closer to Angel so that they could feel each other's breaths against their skin and Angel shuddered… how could he let this man go? He placed his bandaged-covered hand just inside Collins' shirt, against the warmth of his skin and could feel the other man's heart beating so fast that it was almost humming rather than beating. How could he let him go? Angel took his hand from under Collins' shirt as they gazed at one another and her laced his fingers around the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. Collins took this for what it was intended and tenderly kissed Angel's lips, massaging them with his own. For the first time in many months, both of them felt safe… warm… and the passion and love that both had once thought was lost. A soft moan escaped Collins and not wanting to hurt Angel, he started to pull away, but the younger man pulled him back down, wanting to savour ever second and the taste of Collins. Finally after a minute for of this intensive lip-lock, they broke apart but Collins remained so close to him that he could hear the nervous breathing of Angel. The two of them stared into each other's eyes, lost within the other… this wasn't how things were supposed to happen, at least for Angel.

"I love you," Angel finally said the words Collins had longed to hear… the words, without the strings attached. Without having to say them in the moment when either feared they would lose the other. Angel started crying again and Collins kissed him.

"I love you, honey," Collins replied. "I always did. Always will. You believe me? Trust me…"

"I believe you," Angel, through his tears, quickly affirmed. "I trust you. Just promise me something, okay?"

"Anything. Anything."

"Never leave me again. Never."

Collins' smile weakened just a little when he saw the need for hope and reassurance… Angel never needed to be reassured before, but now he was more vulnerable than ever.

"I'll never leave you, baby. Never again," Collins spoke with every bit of sincerity. And it was the truth. No matter what, he'd never leave Angel alone again…

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ Ugh sorry for the long chapter lol. Anyway I hope that was sappy enough for you all… I was planning to have Angel kick Collins' ass out and leave him, but I figured they both gone through too much already. I was merciful lol. But seriously, I hoped you like this chapter.**

**Coming up, Julia confesses everything… plus some other stuff I'm still toying with at the moment. Anyway, please review! **


	28. Chapter 28

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 28**

**_SUMMARY:_ Julia finally can't fight the urge to confess it all any longer. The results, for her, are… well, as you would expect – they ain't good. Angel questions w**

**NOTE: Sorry it took me a while for this new chapter, but I've been seriously lacking motivation to write these past few days and plus I do have serious issues with the government to be working through (those fuckers! Grr!) Anyway, so other obligations have been taking up my time but I'll try get a couple more chapters up before X-mas. I'll try. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

"He's been in there for ages!" Maureen whined, slumping against a chair and pouting. It seemed like forever since she had gone in to hang with Angel, and not to mention she was so bored. Everyone else couldn't blame her, though none wanted to leave – just in case something happened between Angel and Collins that would require some sort of intervention. Julia stood a few feet away from the group, leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest and her head hung. She was deep in thought… well… she was deep in conflict with herself. To her right – Maureen, Joanne, Mimi, Roger, and Mark were talking amongst themselves in a vain attempt to keep each other awake, despite it only being not even 10 AM.

"Well it doesn't sound like their fighting," Mark commented, with a touch of hope. The last thing any of them needed was for an all-out war to break out in there while Angel was still recovering – Collins had been in that room with Angel for close to thirty-five minutes now. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Why, because they're not throwing grenades at each other?" Mimi sharply replied. "I'm still worried about Angel, you know… there's only so make she can take, you know?"

Roger casually clasped his hands behind his neck and stretched. "Oh come on, it's not hard to figure out you know… kiss and make up time. Angel can never hate Collins, we all know that."

Everyone except Julia just stared at him – he was probably right. When they were together, Angel and Collins could barely keep their hands off each other. But something was different now… Angel wasn't the same person anymore and it hurt them all so much. Little did they know that one of the people responsible for it was standing amongst them.

"Well he's only human," Joanne pointed out. "Mimi's right, I wouldn't be surprised if Angel totally got rid of Collins out of his life."

"Like that'll ever happen," Maureen scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Collins has _so_ much to answer for – if Angel has any self respect, she'll throw Collins out on his ass."

"Wait," Mark turned around, frowning. "Half an hour ago you were throwing yourself in his arms tell him how much you missed him—"

"Hey, I never said I didn't love him," Maureen interrupted with amazing self assurance. "I just don't like what he's done to our girl – Angel shouldn't have to put up with it until Collins cleans up his act."

"Like you did?" Joanne snapped. Like it was hard for her and Maureen to start going at it again; she didn't need to throw fuel on the fire and start baiting her self-absorbed girlfriend. Maureen scowled and turned to face her, with more than a look of annoyance…

"That was such a cheap shot, Pookie. Real nice."

"Whatever, I—"

"Guys!" Mimi stepped in before things could escalate. "Just chill, okay? We're all tired…"

"She started it!"

"What! No way, it was all you!"

"Both of you shut up!" Roger was frustrated with the bickering and fighting from not just them, but all among them. "You know what? Maybe some of us should go back home or something… a couple can stay here… we all don't need to be here."

"Speak for yourself, Roger!" Mimi exclaimed. "I'm not leaving Angel alone!"

"He's not alone—"

"You know what I mean…"

Mark stepped away from the door. "Roger's right. No point all of us being here…"

Julia wasn't paying much attention to the debate and was struggling with her own self-control which was battling a fierce war against guilt and the knowledge that she's, in fact, the responsible one for Angel getting attacked in the hospital and the subsequent problems with Collins… it was never her intention for things to get this far or bad, and again she had to hide her addiction. She was definitely leading a kind of 'double life' and knew how to control it to the best of her abilities, but now it was all coming undone and control was no longer hers. There was nothing that could break her from this 'trance' like state that had her fighting the fight of self-preservation versus the truth… and possible jail. If and when the police found her (no doubt Sam and Julian would give up her name in a heartbeat), there was no way the rest of them would _not_ find out – including Collins. Oh man, was she dreading the time when she'd have to face him again… and if the truth was gonna be said, it would be better coming from her.

She blinked away tears and felt herself trembling, though it wasn't cold – it was her nerves that had been shot straight to hell over the past several days. The pressure that her conscience was placing on her shoulders was enormous and not at all pleasant in it's experience… her mind and heart were arguing two different things, and rightfully so. The mind is something that functions on and processes information and logically tries to deduce what the best course of action is. The heart works in the opposite way… it uses the body itself to someone what to do, or what the best thing to do is… it works as an instinct. Both were good things to know and understand, but right now for Julia, they were in the worst conflict of her life…

She lifted her head so that the back of it rested against the wall so she could stare at the ceiling which was obviously blank…dull… just like how she was feeling right now - just totally blank. Nothing seemed to be working for the beautiful young Texan, who on the outside appeared to have everything and be everything that society wanted – perfection. But like most things, the outward image was usually nothing but that… an image. A façade that shields psychological or physical scars that could be associated with trauma or pressure… in her case, it was drugs. And it wasn't hard to cover up the addiction once she knew how to properly conceal her actions and behavior… now it would all come out, and there was also no possible way of hiding it from her family and friends either. She didn't want to imagine the outcome of that.

_They will all find out…_ her conscience reasoned. _It's better to be done on your terms than when you're being hauled off by the cops…_

Her resistance was understandable, and she looked over at the others who were now talking about who should stay and go. The first person who had to know about this… the first ones to hear the truth had to be Collins, as well as Angel… no doubt the others would also find out soon and probably out for her blood, but they couldn't know first. Little by little, Julia's resistance was crumbling, but she still held back.

_He's gonna hate you forever… they all will… _

Julia fidgeted on the spot and really struggled to control herself – she couldn't let them notice that she was getting worked up into a state. Things had gone far enough. Finally, after taking a deep breath and preparing her self as best as she could for the consequences of her actions, she stepped forward.

"I'm not leaving our girl either!" Maureen was stubbornly standing by what Mimi had been saying – they weren't gonna leave. "She needs us here!"

"Angel needs Collins here," Roger tried to convince her. "It's not like they're gonna kill each other or anything… guys we gotta go back sooner or later!"

"You and Mark go back then!" Mimi insisted. "We'll stay."

"You need rest, Mims," Roger spoke to her more quietly, knowing the devastating effects of the virus – Mimi was more petite and weak than the rest of them with the disease so she was more prone to illness at the moment. It was only last year that she almost died from the disease, and Roger wasn't gonna take the chance that she could get sick again – he wasn't ready to let her go. "I just think—"

"No!" Mimi was adamant in her decision. "I'm staying, baby… you and everyone else can go, but Maureen and me are staying."

"Mimi!"

"I said—"

"I heard what you said!"

"I don't see what the big deal is!" Maureen stood next to Mimi and linked their arms.

"The big deal, Honeybear?" Joanne gave her a 'do-I-really-gotta-spell-this-out-for-you' look. "Is that you and Mimi aren't exactly gonna do either of them much good and you both need to sleep…"

"Fuck you!" Maureen stormed over to her, her short fuse burning out once again. "You're always bitching and moaning about what I'm doing or NOT doing! Just back the hell off!"

More tension was mounting and Julia finally walked over to them, timidly.

"Why don't you all go back?" she quietly said. "I'll stay."

Well, I guess you can imagine the kinds of looks she was getting at that offer, and seeing everyone's heads turn in her direction, she quickly added…

"I mean, you know… I'll keep an eye on them. Why should we all stay here and die of boredom?"

Mark cleared his throat. "Um, no that's ok Julia… we got it."

"None of you have had any real sleep in days, and I'm sure they'd understand – besides its getting too crowded here anyway." She didn't want to raise any suspicions as to her motive for making the generous offer, and Mark and Roger exchanged looks.

"You sure? You don't have to; Mark and I'll stay…"

"Yeah I'm sure," she replied, running her manicured nails through her hair. "I think it'll be good for them too… they can have their time without worrying about you guys out here."

"What are you gonna do?" Joanne asked. Julia shrugged.

"I got a couple of things I can do… a couple of things I have to do. I'll be okay." Well, technically that wasn't a lie…

"No, like I said," Mimi shook her head. "I'm staying!"

"Mimi, you got a double shift tonight!" Roger reminded her. "You gotta rest – Angel's not going anywhere!"

"But what if--!"

"I don't wanna hear it!" he interrupted her. "We can come back later, okay?"

Mimi groaned and looked around at the others; silently pleading for help – but those please went unanswered as they all remained silent to her will. She pouted and relented, falling back down on the chair and sulked for a few moments.

"This isn't fair!" Maureen resumed her whining. "Why does _she _get to stay?" she referred to Julia – not in a mean or vicious manner, but one of frustrated and annoyance.

"Because _she_ doesn't look like she's about to fall down dead," Joanne retorted. "Maureen, quit whining, okay? We'll go back to my apartment, sleep, and then come back, okay!"

Maureen, too, looked at the others for help, but seeing the defeated body language of Mimi, she simply gave a frustrated sigh and picked up her jacket.

"Fine, whatever!"

With the five of them finally in agreement, the next debate was whether they should say goodbye to Angel and Collins – of course, Maureen and Mimi were more determined to than the others, and were quickly admonished once again for their over-enthusiasm to go bouncing into the room shouting and yelling, when it was so obviously a tender time for both the drummer and the teacher.

"Tell them we'll be back later, right?" Mark felt a bit out of place asking Julia for anything, but she simply nodded and agreed to such terms. This was the first step in her actually doing the right thing, and she didn't want the added pressure of having the rest of them coming after her after she revealed the nature of her 'secret' to the man whom she admired probably more than anyone… and she hurt him in such an extreme way that she knew he'd never forgive her. But right now, he was seeking – and needing – answers to questions that had evaded him for so long now and Julia held most of those answers… none in which he'd like. However it had to be told now.

"Mark, like Mimi said – we're not going!" Maureen was fighting a losing battle, she knew. She didn't want to leave… at least she didn't wanna leave Angel alone with Collins.

"Julia – you sure you'll be okay?" Mark ignored is ex purposefully, still concerned over Julia's injuries. "I mean you look pretty beaten up…"

Hoping she wouldn't have to explain, Julia simply nodded in assurance. "Yeah I'm good. It's cool, just go… you all look half dead anyway." Never would she usually be so forward with people she weren't entirely familiar with or a group of people where she didn't feel totally accepted but under the circumstances I think she was justified here, don't you?

Roger had a difficult time trying to drag Mimi up from where she was sitting, but finally he just picked her up, almost throwing her over his shoulder.

"You're coming back to the loft…" he told her and held her still as she struggled. The others had to stifle their amusement at Mimi's situation, though Julia remained serious… almost stone-faced. Mark was the only one who noticed her behavior, and thought about bringing it up but decided against it so he didn't cause any more tension between them.

"Roger!" Mimi squealed. "Put me down, dammit!"

"Play nice?"

"Shut up!"

"Good," Roger smirked and looked at Julia. "That's about as nice as she gets when she's off the junk…" he put her down and Mimi turned around, shoving him violently.

"Jerk!"

"Thanks, baby…"

Julia smiled at that obviously shallow, light-hearted bantering between them… the relationships these people enjoyed were so… real. How could anyone ever beat that? Now, she was sure that she had blown her chance of fitting in with real people too, but it wouldn't be as bad with having to live with the terrible secrets she did if she didn't tell the truth. She had options… she just didn't like them. Who would?

"I'll call, okay?" she told them, trying to convince them that everything would be okay should they decide to leave. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Except our girl getting hurt!" Maureen was still sulking. "Collins could cause her more harm than good…"

"Ohh gees!" Joanne rolled her eyes. "Who does that remind me of?"

"Uh-huh… whatever you say, Pookie," Maureen stuck out her tongue. "I'll be the mature one here and won't respond…"

Mark snorted at that remark and the others too started laughing, and Maureen just shook her head in disgust and walked over to Julia.

"Give Angel and Collins this for me," she then hugged Julia and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Okay?"

"Sure," she nodded.

"Yeah, and tell Collins that if he keeps messing with our girl, he's in trouble!" Mimi added, wrapping her arms around Roger.

"To say the least," Maureen agreed.

"Thanks, Julia," Roger said and started pulling Mimi towards the elevator. "Call us if anything changes, okay?"

"Will do."

A few minutes later, after they all said their goodbye, Julia was left standing alone in the hallway as the doctors and nurses continued to walk by her in doing their daily duties. Sitting down where Mimi had been previously, Julia was left to her own troubled thoughts and wondered how she was gonna break this news to the couple who had endured so much, and gone through hell multiple times just so they could be together.

**WITH ANGEL AND COLLINS**

Collins stared into Angel's big beautiful brown eyes for what felt like an eternity, absorbing every moment he had to look at them and appreciating every second of it. It was not often that a relationship was given a second chance… and now they were on, what, they're third or forth chance? This was their last chance, he was sure, and he wasn't about to blow this one not by a long shot. All he wanted was to get Angel back to their apartment and… well; you can guess what he wanted to do to him. Collins had lost everything the moment he got into bed with Samuel again, and the lies and deceit and the ultimate pain Angel and their friends went through because of him… well, it was unbearable, and he was now determined to set things right even if it killed him. The only thing that could bring him down now in this moment, was if Angel told him that there was no hope for them… and obviously he didn't, so Collins really felt that nothing could destroy this. Man, if only he knew what was waiting for them just outside, right?

Angel picked at his nails and let out an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. A part of him was disappointed with him self for giving in to Collins so easily, and not standing his ground… a part of him just wanted their connection to die so he wouldn't be hurt again. But like with most cases, he couldn't bring himself to let go of the one person who truly understands him, no matter how painful things got. And it's not like things could get any worse, right?

"When did you find out about Sam and Julian?" Collins asked casually, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. He was curious as to how Angel actually found out about it, as he was sure that he was thinking the same thing about him, but wouldn't say anything. Angel diverted his attention away from his broken nails.

"What?"

"Sam and Julian," Collins repeated. "How did you know?"

"Oh honey, I know everything," Angel winked and gave him a charming yet slightly mischievous smile. "I saw it on T.V. What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah!"

Collins shifted in his seat. "I saw it on the television too… when they brought me in because of my hand."

Angel's eyes shifted to gaze at the cast that covered his lover's hand, visually inspecting it with an innocent sense of curiosity. Gently he lifted up Collins' arm and studied the heavy cast, running his fingers along it and feeling the rough texture of the mold…

"You did this because of me, right?"

"No…"

Angel rolled his eyes. "Baby don't lie to me anymore, okay? Times are shitty enough – and we can't afford anymore lies, you know?"

Collins was surprised to see a lot of innocent trust… belief… that his lover had for him. At least it was a refreshing change from the distrust and hate that Angel should, and had, been feeling for so long now.

"Okay," Collins softly conceded. "Okay… I was terrified of what you'd say, so I went outside and well… I kinda just had to let loose a bit."

"Let loose?"

"On the ground."

"Did it hurt?"

"Heck yeah!"

Angel stared at him for a few seconds before erupting in a fit of giggles for apparently no reason. Collins sat up straight, startled just a little bit at seemingly inappropriate and odd reaction, and shook his head – given Angel's current situation, it wasn't unusual for Angel to react differently to certain things but this was ridiculous! Was he laughing at Collins' pain or what? No… that's a silly idea. Angel never could laugh at someone who was hurting, especially given the circumstances under which he was in hospital now.

"What's so funny?" Collins demanded, deciding to call Angel's bluff. Angel continued to giggle and laugh even harder, and got to the point where Collins thought he would hurt himself if he didn't calm down. "Angel, you're gonna hurt yourself if you don't calm down… what the hell's so funny?"

After a few seconds of trying to regain control of him self, Angel wiped his eyes of the tears that had formed there.  
"I'm sorry, honey," he giggled. "It's just funny that's all…"

Collins frowned. "What's funny?

"This whole thing! This whole situation!"

"What? Are you insane?"

"Possibly," Angel smiled. "But that's not the point." He burst into another round of giggles again and Collins shook his head in a dazed confusion, yet amused at Angel's antics even though he could barely move. Well, needless to say he never got a reason as to why Angel was reacting as he was, and simply put it down to the multiple pain killers and pain managers the medical staff had injected into his system.

"Angel, you're scaring me, baby…"

"Oh hush!" Angel scolded him, lightly. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh really!" Collins replied, challengingly, and moved to sit on Angel's bed. "Is that right?" before Angel could react, Collins started kissing him, placing small kisses on his face and gently teasing him and Angel started squirming as a result.

"Hey no fair!" he squealed. "You're taking advantage of me!"

"Uh-huh…" Collins muttered as he placed a small kiss just under Angel's left ear, before starting to nibble at it. "You like it; you know it…"

"You're not playing by the rules, sweetie!"

"Oh you want me to stop?" Collins continued teasing and pulled away, standing up. "Okay!" he started to move away.

"Wait!" Angel protested. Collins turned back.

"Wait for what? And since when did you play by the rules anyway?"

"Hey!" his young lover protested. "At least I play fair!"

Collins smirked and sat back down on the bed. This was the first return to a somewhat normalcy between them in close to four months now and it was awesome to experience it – for both of them, it was like experiencing each other, for real, for the first time again. The essence and beauty of the intrigue and curiosity they had for each other when they met, and the desire to explore each other through that curiosity, had now returned and it was like they were getting to know each other again. _Slow down, Tom,_ Collins told himself, determined not to rush things. Angel, too, had the same thought and the light fun they were having soon settled down.

"Collins?" he spoke more seriously.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they'll be punished?"

"Who?"

"You know…"

"Sam and Julian?"

"Yeah."

Collins brought Angel's hand up to his faced and kissed it again. "Does it matter what I think, baby? If it weren't for me—"

"That wasn't my question," Angel wanted to stop him before Collins started into a cycle of self-loathing and hatred of him self. Neither of them needed that. "You know them better than any of us, right?"

"I don't know. I thought I did. Angel, I think they got some major karma coming their way… they'll get what they deserve."

Angel relaxed a bit, satisfied with that answer, and absently stared around the room at the same old bland dullness of the room in the hospital which had been his home for over a week now. His life had changed so dramatically through his own actions, and the actions of the man he loved and would he ever be the same again? The answer was ever elusive and he doubt the forgiving of Collins or the arrest and convictions of Sam and Julian would be sufficient in answering it. Only time held the key and it was unrelenting in keeping its secrets locked up.

"Angel?" Collins' voice broke through the silence and Angel's thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"What you thinking of, baby?"

"Oh… nothing," he replied, but his darkened, saddened eyes told Collins a different story.

"Hey, what did you just tell me about no more lies?"

Angel sighed, regretting his choice of words, but Collins was still right. "It's just… I don't know if I'll be the same. If anything will be the same, you know? I'm just wondering if it's all worth it… I mean, what's the point of throwing Sam and Julian in jail if things can't go back to the way they were?"

"Angel, nothing can be as it was…" Collins pointed out. "I doubt after what's happened… nothing will be the same. I guess it's just something we have to live with… move on…"

"But how?" Angel was desperate to know. "I want to go back to our old lives. Before any of this…"

"I know, Ang, I know!" Collins agreed. "But there's nothing we can do about it now. We've been given a new chance… _I've_ been given a new chance… all we can do is make the best of it…"

Angel's confusion wasn't unfounded nor was it anything to be taken lightly, and there was nothing more that he or Collins, or any of them wanted than for Angel to get back his spark for life, the spirit that possessed his soul which was one of love and living each moment as if it were your last. Forget regret. Now, his life was full of regrets and uncertainties, and although now it was virtually guaranteed that he would fully recover from the physical aspect, there was so much more for them to have to deal with now. And he was fully aware of what was happening to him – but of course, knowing what's happening and not being able to prevent are two different things entirely.

Collins kissed Angel's cheek tenderly and Angel responded by lacing his fingers with the teacher's, carefully minding the wounds on his hands. No matter what happens now, he wouldn't let Collins go again… not for anything.

Meanwhile, just outside the room, the door had been slightly opened and Julia was looking inside at the loving moment. She had just caught the tail-end of their conversation, and that obviously didn't do her any good as she was about to drop another bombshell on them that they didn't need, but for her own sake she had to do it. Saving her soul, I guess you could say. Now, some of you may think it's a good idea that she's gonna tell them the truth, and others may think that it's a stupid, even reckless decision given the emotional instability of them both, and Angel's weakened physical state. It was hard not to see the love Angel and Collins shared; it truly was a touching moment that defined who they both were… supporting the idea that love knows no bound – no gender, no age, no time, no place… it's universal. It's forever.

Julia started taking deep breaths and wanted to force herself into knocking on the door. What sort of punishment would she receive for telling the truth? None so greater as to lose someone you care deeply about… a friend. Sometimes the cost of telling the truth was high, higher than that of telling a lie…

_KNOCK, KNOCK_

She didn't even know she had knocked until she heard her knuckles tapping the door for the third or forth time. By then, she had garnered the attention of the two people she was fearing most, and it was suddenly too late to change her mind and back out now.

"Julia?" a confused Collins stood up and let go of Angel, who was also looking her direction. Collins walked over to the door and opened it fully; not knowing what was going on and saw the kind of frightened look on her face. Julia froze.

"Julia?" he repeated. "Girl, what's up?" he looked beyond her and saw that none of their friends were anywhere to be found. "Where is everyone?"

Julia blinked rapidly and tried to maintain control of herself, but her legs felt like jelly underneath her, and she grabbed onto Collins for support, which he gladly obliged.

"Julia, what's up? What's wrong?" he started to ask with greater concern. Something wasn't right and it didn't take a genius to realise that. She looked like she had seen a ghost or something. He pulled her inside and closed the door, exchanging concerned looks with Angel… what the hell is up with this girl?"  
"Julia? Honey, what's wrong?"

Still getting no response, Collins led her over to the seat in which he had been sitting in moments earlier and she basically flopped onto the chair. Angel curiously watched his lover kneel in front of her, taking both her hands in his and trying to get her out of this 'trance' like state she was in. Why was she so nervous?

"Julia?" he shook her arms. "What's up? What's going on?"

Finally, Julia summoned up the courage to look at him. "I…" she stammered and looked up at Angel who was confused and worried at the same time. "I just…"

"Where is everyone?" Collins asked again.

"They've, um… they went back to the loft," she explained. "They were all tired, so I offered to stay in case something happened."

"And they didn't even say goodbye?" Angel pouted lightly. Julia shrugged.

"They wanted to, but they didn't wanna disturb you two…"

Collins kept a hold of her hands, staring at her and intently tried to work out from her body language what may bother her. In all the years he worked as a teacher he had learned to pick up on the subtleties that people often have in their body language or what they say. Julia was hiding something that really looked to be tearing her up.

"What's wrong?" he repeated. He'd keep asking her until he got some sort of satisfactory answer.

"What? Nothing…"

"Julia you look like you've seen a ghost. What's up? If you're gonna lie, be creative…" he wasn't in the mood for this. As much as he loved her and thought the world of this brilliant student, it wasn't a good time for her to come to him with her problems… whatever it was, he didn't want it to ruin his time with Angel.

Julia brushed some hair out of her face, trying to figure out how to do this. Maybe she should stand near the door in case she needed a quick exit, right? No… that was cowardly. She'd face up to the truth as strongly as possible… and then get home and cry like a baby for hours on end, because she subsequently wouldn't be able to keep the addiction and her role in an attempted murder a secret for long. Angel and Collins would be the least of her troubles when she got him.

"Are you okay?" Angel weakly cleared his throat and winced at what felt like a stinging sensation in his arm, and froze until the pain subsided. Julia shook her head. It was now or never, really… it might sound like an overreaction, but if you think about it, it's really not. Julia was instrumental in Sam and Julian's organization and execution of the plan to get Angel when he was still recovering. At the least, she's an accessory to attempted murder…

"No," she whispered. "Um… there… there was also another reason why I told them to go home…"

Collins raised an eyebrow. "You _told_ them to?"

"I suggested it," she explained. "Mimi and Maureen wanted to stay but the others dragged them off. There's, um… something I gotta tell you both and I don't know I should…"

Collins' concern steadily grew when he saw the nervousness in her eyes turn into absolute fear, and he immediately pulled her into a hug, which Julia readily accepted as may being her last from him. She burst into tears.

"Hey girl, what's gotten into you?" he cooed in her ear. "What's going on? You know you can tell us…"

"I did something horrible," she cried into his shoulder. "Collins, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it to happen, honest to God I didn't mean it!" it was all coming out now, and he just rubbed her back. _What did she do? What could she possibly have done that would warrant such a thing as thing?_

"For what?"

"I…" she pulled away and glanced at Angel. Angel wanted to reach out and give the poor girl a hug as she was so distraught over something, he didn't know what. The caring looks she was getting from them both only made it that much harder to come clean and her sobbing and crying intensified to the point where she almost fainted.  
Collins let her go for a brief moment and stood up, backing up just enough so he could talk softly with Angel.

"What's wrong with her?" Angel asked in a low voice.

"I have no fucking idea," Collins admitted. "It's gotta be bad…"

"She's apologizing to you? You have no idea what she's done?"

"Whatever it is, it's tearing her up…"

Collins went back over to her and knelt down in the same position he was in before, and rested his arm on her leg.  
"Julia, honey what's up? Seriously you got us all worked up now… whatever it is, we'll understand. Why you apologizing for? What's going on?"

_Dammit why does he have to be so fucking sweet! _Her mind was screaming. Mark had been right all along – this world did fuck you up and there was nothing good about it. There was nothing forgiving about living here and putting up with what they all had to day in and day out… it seems worse from her perspective because she's always lived a nice lifestyle all her life, and to willingly allow herself to be dragged into this environment was a bit of a shock to her system… to say the least. Julia regretted having not listened to Mark and Collins when they warned her that this wasn't a good place for her to be in… she just didn't understand it.

She looked at them both through the blurriness of her eyes; her vision distorted by the tears that blinded her so well to what the reality of it was. Collins had been through enough guilt and pain to last about a dozen lifetimes, and Angel? Don't get me started on what he's been through – you all know what he's been through. The thing is so does Julia and she also has to live with the guilt of having been responsible for a lot of that pain. All for a few bags of coke. Nice, huh? Of course these types of deals are made more often than any of us would like to admit, but in this case the circumstances where different. You all know why.

Her hands were shaking and she held onto the bedside rail for support, although Collins offered to help her, she refused. No way was she in a position to ask him for anything. Now, don't go getting ideas – Julia isn't a malicious, violent person by nature, but she has made some not-so-good decisions in her quest to keep up with her addiction. She happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when she came across Julian who then made her that offer. Now it's coming back to bite her in the ass… the guilt wasn't gonna die.

"I…" she got to her feet, still shaking and unsteady as she straightened herself. Collins held her arm for support, but almost immediately she yanked it away, surprising both him and Angel a bit.  
"I gotta go home," she whispered. "I can't stay here anymore, it's not good for you…"

"What?" Collins shook his head, trying to get his mind around what she had just said. "What the hell are you talking about? What's not good for me?"

"I can't stay; I'll just end up making it worse! Hurting you both more!"

"Julia will you just tell us what's going on?" Collins was growing more frustrated by the second. The hysterical girl standing before him wasn't the same person he knew from his classes or even from their personal relationship… in only the few days that passed since he really sat down and talked with her, she seemed to have been stripped completely of who she really was. This wasn't Julia Sampson.

"Sweetie, what ya talking about?" Angel asked, kindly. Collins couldn't help but notice a hint of the old caring nature of Angel creep back into his tone. "Why you crying?"

"Stop it!" she hysterically told them, stepping away from both Collins and Angel's bed. "Stop it, I don't deserve it… you… you…" she blinked. Fuck, it was all or nothing now.

"What is it?" Collins pressed as this was getting them no where… they wouldn't get any answers out of her if she kept on like this. She inhaled.

"It's my fault! My fault Angel almost died… Julian… set up…" she hiccupped and finally raised her eyes to meet Angel's. "I set you up to get attacked that second time."

Horror and confusion overtook the two lovers who both could barely register what she just second, but the panic and emotional deterioration took its toll on Julia. Right there and then, she closed her eyes and fell to the ground – she fainted as blackness overcame here.

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Hey all! Sorry it took longer than usual to update, and sorry if this chapter seemed a little dull. I figured that was a nice little cliffhanger to keep you all coming back for more. Anyways more to come in the next chapter with Julia/Collins/Angel and it'll be good! Also, Benny may make another appearance. Someone dies. **


	29. Chapter 29

**Destroyed**

**Chapter 29**

**_SUMMARY:_ Angel and Collins react to the startling revelation from a guilt-ridden Julia. Sweet chapter. Lovely.**

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Staring down at Julia's limp body on the floor after she fainted from driving herself into near hysterics, Collins couldn't possibly be in anymore conflict with him self than he was now. It felt like ages, but really only a few seconds had passed and he and Angel were both still in shock over those last few words she spoke.

"What just happened?" Angel stammered, keeping control of him self, but he was starting to tremble with fear.

Collins didn't respond and he knelt down at Julia's side – no… it couldn't be true, could it? She'd never do that to him; to Angel… that's not the kind of person she was! I mean, in order for her to even bring herself to do business with scum like Sam, she'd have to be a… Collins didn't want to think of that possibility, not when it came to someone with such a brilliant mind as Julia. He was afraid to reach out and touch her; fearing that his worst suspicions may be, in fact, correct… and if they were, then everything he knew about her would be wrong. Everything he loved about her would be false. Not to mention the dangerous situation this would once again put them all in.  
Still in a semi-shocked state, unable to hear anything or take his eyes away from her, Collins absently reached down and touched her arm so lightly that even he could barely feel the touch. But she was warm… pale…

"Collins?" Angel desperately tried to get his lover's attention, but Collins was tuned out to everything but the girl lying unconscious on the floor. He studied her face with caution but the curiosity became too much to avoid… his fingers glided over the silky material of her shirt and traced the fine stitching. We all know Collins isn't stupid – in fact he is highly intelligent, so it took not more than a few seconds for him to formulate an idea as to what she had in fact been hiding. Why would she confess to helping Sam and Julian, two notoriously evil drug dealers, unless there was something on monetary value in it for her, too? But then again… why would she want to help them hurt Angel?_ No…_ he thought, in denial. _She wouldn't… she couldn't… she wouldn't do this to us…_ if in fact he did find out she was a druggie, then it would turn his whole world upside down again. If it wasn't for her, he would've never had the courage to face Angel again and get back his friends… but maybe that was her plan with Sam and Julian all along, right? Well, we all know that's not true as it wasn't until after she met Angel did she weaken to Julian's offer. However, Collins didn't know that.

His breathing deepened and he feared what horrible truths he would discover, should he continue to investigate her further. Angel watched in a state of a frozen being, afraid to move or speak… why would she do this to him? To Collins? He, too, was in a sense of denial… he didn't want to believe that this sweet young woman could do such a horrible thing – that someone could betray a friend… wait… no, it wasn't appropriate for him to think those kinds of things given what he's done. But then again, no matter how much he had hurt his friends in the past… he'd never put them in danger and would never ask them to do anything that would do so. How was one supposed to react in a situation such as this? More specifically, given Collins' past, how was _he_ supposed to react in a situation like this? If what she had said was actually true… neither knew enough information or had barely begun to comprehend the complexity of it all that followed, emotionally speaking.

Collins lifted up Julia's arm in a disturbingly gentle way – like it would break upon contact with another person's skin. His fingers curled around her small wrist while he used his damaged hand and the little dexterity he had left in those fingers to manipulate the button on the cuff of her sleeve. Fearing what could be; hoping it wouldn't be; not wanting to dare know the truth that could confirm or hopefully put to rest the only logical reason she'd say something like that. He unbuttoned the clasp and although he knew he should get medical help for the young woman, fear and even denial kept him there… wanting to see if it were true. Now, with Julia being as secretive and well adaptable to hiding her addiction, you'd expect her to not inject in her arm for fear of leaving track marks…

Angel was worried – not about what Julia had said, but more so Collins' reaction to it. He didn't need this extra pressure, and Angel knew the guilt that would accompany him (even if it wasn't true) because Collins knew he was the one who introduced Angel to Julia. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Collins would then assume that it was _he_ who set the ball in motion… after all the self-torment and self-hatred he in particular had been through, it wasn't hard to see a pattern forming. This shit was not needed now – and that's putting it lightly.

Collins then rolled up her sleeve and had to turn away quickly when he saw multiple needle marks that looked to have been covered with some sort of make-up material. He dropped her arm a little more harshly than even he expected, and got to his feet.

"Collins?" Angel spoke with uncertainty, still not fully understanding what was going on. "Baby… w… we can't leave her there!"

"It makes sense now…" he muttered to no one in particular, staring coldly down at her limp body. The realization dawned on him so quickly that he almost staggered backwards into Angel's bed. Everything was falling into place – how they knew where Angel's room was; where and when to get in… how to get past security; how they got the information they needed – how Sam learned about Angel and Collins' desires to get back together and now… her injuries. Sam must've been pissed off and blamed her… or didn't wanna leave a witness or someone who could turn around and pin all this on him. Whatever her motive was, there were basically the imprints of the truth he didn't want to have to know, right there on her arm.

"Collins? Talk to me!" Angel pleaded. Now he was hoping that his love didn't do something stupid. Finally, Collins acknowledged his pleas and turned around, with dread and the look of ultimate betrayal in his eyes – the same look which haunted Angel months earlier when he caught Collins in bed with Sam, but now it was in an entirely different context, perhaps worse that before.

"She did it," Collins whispered. "I can't…. I… she did it…" a sudden rush of anger and even hatred surged through his veins and it took every bit of energy in him in his restraint so he wouldn't grab her by the throat and shove her up against the wall. But the jolt quickly subsided and hurt replaced it. He had to sit down before he fell down and gripped the side of Angel's bed… almost instantly he felt the warmth of Angel's skin on his.

"I… I don't know what happened, Tom… you don't either; we can't leave her lying there!"

"Why not!" Collinsquestioned darkly, with anintensity that spooked Angel. "After what she's done… she's the reason that Julian… that you…" he couldn't bring himself to verbally bring up the events as the memories of seeing all that blood only days before was enough to coke him up. After taking a moment, he managed to get a grip on himself for long enough. "She deserves to rot!"

"We don't know anything, baby!" Angel insisted, wanting Collins to calm down. "Needle marks mean nothing!"

"It means everything!" Collins jumped up and reached down, pulling the still unconscious girl up by the collar of her shirt. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions right? But like I said, Collins is an intelligent guy…

"Angel, it means she lied to me. She lied to you. It means she's a junkie… where do you think she'd go to get a fix? Huh? Who do you think is the biggest drug pusher in this area? Look at her! The track marks are fresh; she had to get her shit from here! Do the math, Angel! How do you think Julian knew where to find you? How do you think he managed to get past security? How do you think Julia got those injuries? Classic marks of a dealer not happy – I've seen it all before!" the realization of all this and hit him within seconds and it was almost too much to bear. But Angel was right – they didn't know the whole story and while she was lying there they wouldn't get anymore answers out of her, so Collins held her in his arms and picked her up and carried her to the door. Angel was still in shock over the whole thing… what the heck did she mean? She set them up? Not being as educated and in the position to think logically as his lover, also not knowing Julia as well as Collins allegedly did, it wasn't as easy for him to arrive at the same conclusion. His heart was pounding against his ribs so much that his broken ribs felt more like daggers poking him from the inside; however the morphine was doing its best to dull the pain. At that moment, though, Angel was more focused on what Collins just told him, coupled with Julia's words before she fainted. _Fuck, how many more people are out to get me_? He bitterly thought.

Minutes later, Collins returned to the room and almost slammed the door shut behind him, obviously minus Julia.

"Where is she?" Angel was afraid to ask but couldn't stop him self. Collins' dark expression softened considerably when he saw the fear and confusion in Angel's eyes once again, and went to his side.

"Doctors took her," in the minutes he was away from Angel's side, Collins did calm down more and was somewhat more rational in his thinking, reminding himself that until they got the full story from Julia, he just had to stay calm for his sake and more importantly for Angel's sake. No jumping to conclusions. No. "They say she'll be okay… breathing's normal and stuff."

"What about you?" Angel pushed further. "You okay?"

"No," Collins sharply replied. "And I don't know how you can be…"

"Collins, after everything that's happened… I don't wanna believe it either, but I wanna wait until I hear more from her. Trust me, honey, nothing surprises me anymore," he added with weak humor to lighten them both up. It worked, momentarily.

"How could she!" Collins bit his lips and wiped his eyes with a tissue. "That bi—"

"Don't say something you'll regret, baby," Angel told him, soothingly. "You did nothing wrong…"

"I fucking brought her here!" Collins cried. "I should've known… I should've seen it! But… I mean, she was a brilliant student, and—"

"Dammit, Tom! She made her own decision; you and me both know she would've been on the stuff way longer than how long she's known you if she's desperate enough to get her shit from the likes of Sam! Even if she did… _arrange_ this. There's no way you could no—" this was a surprising turn of events. Angel comforting Collins? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"How can you be so… calm?"

"Because it doesn't fucking surprise me, I told you," Angel replied harshly. "It's just… after this past week… I dunno… I guess I had a feeling that someone had been keeping up with Sam or something. I dunno, maybe not that… but I just…"

"Why didn't you say anything!"

"First of all, you weren't here!" Angel snapped. "And second…" his tone softened. "I don't know, okay? It was just a small, tiny feeling that's all. The thought crossed my mind… you know… how did they know?"

Collins tried desperately to wrap his mind around all of this and get a grip on himself. Yes, he didn't know for sure what Julia had meant when he saw the track marks on her arms and the hysterical nature she was in… and the begging for forgiveness. Come on… how hard would it be to put 2 + 2 together? Why would Julia sell her soul like that? And she used Mark, him, and Angel in the process? And Angel's relaxed, calm demeanor served him no other purpose than more worry… Angel said he wasn't surprised anymore, in a tone of voice that kinda sounded like he thought that he deserved it, or had it coming, or at least was a foreseeable consequence of him being who he was. Right then, Julia was dropped from Collins' mind.

"Angel, you'd tell me if—"

"If I were about to crack? Go nuts? Insane? Be committed?" Angel guessed. In bewildered amusement, Collins nodded.

"Yeah…"

"Hell no I wouldn't tell you," Angel bluntly, yet honestly, told him and affectionately rubbed Collins' arms. He yawned. "I doubt you'd tell me if you were in my position."

"I should be in your position," Collins quietly replied, lovingly keeping his bedside vigil. This sudden shocking revelation from Julia wouldn't keep him from being strong and knowing what was important. He would get the answers from her later, but the confusion now was being replaced with denial and a will to not believe the truth that had hit them both so fast the world was spinning around them. It was worse for Angel, obviously, who had no idea why Julia would wanna hurt him so bad… but Collins was the kind of person who would take the responsibility for it if he felt it necessary, even if he wasn't involved. "It should be me there, Ang… he wanted to punish me… you got if for just being you."

Angel wistfully stared up at the ceiling, silently seeking some solace from whatever higher Being existed.

"I don't think hurting you was an option for Sam," Angel stated. "No matter how much you two hate each other, I don't think either of you can really bring yourselves into a position where you'd really physically hurt each other—"

"Angel, you should've seen me beat the crap outta the little punk—"

"I know," Angel calmly acknowledged. "But you stopped. You know you couldn't bring yourself to kill him, Collins… why do you think you stopped?"

Collins knew what Angel was saying (in his usual peaceful, loving way that could always make someone feel at ease and where blame was non existent). Angel spoke in a non-threatening way, like what he was saying was completely okay and natural… to keep the peace and for his lover to know that there was nothing wrong with it. Collins closed his eyes and Angel saw his throat constrict briefly, preventing a much needed release of built-up turmoil. It was a physical validation of the truth-ness of Angel's words, as Collins didn't immediately out right deny it… in fact; he didn't deny it at all. He couldn't. He didn't know the reason why he stopped beating Sam, or why he couldn't bring him self to throw that son of a bitch through the brick wall.

"Tom, baby, its okay…" he continued. "I'm not mad. I think we're, like, _really_ beyond any of that shit now. You and Sam shared something special once, honey… he was your first love. Nothing can ever replace that. Not even me."

"I love you… I hate him…"

"Maybe. Now. But I think you know why you couldn't finish the job. No matter what he's turned into – a cold-blooded killer, or whatever – he couldn't hurt you either. Not physically anyway."  
Angel lovingly stroked Collins' wrist – this was the type of thing Angel could see more clearly than others, for reasons unknown. He knew that real love existed between Collins and Sam now, and even though it was in the past and no longer existing, it was something Collins had to embrace as his past. In order for Tom Collins to embrace Angel again, he needed to acknowledge and embrace his past… to learn from it and so Angel could have all of him, not just who he is now. "You loved him, Tom. You shouldn't be ashamed of it…"

"I hate him for what he did to you," Collins whispered, trembling. "I hate myself for letting it happen. I did it and I have to live with it—"

"Don't punish your self forever, baby. That won't be fair to either of us…" why Angel was so calm was a mystery – he had just found out that one of Collins so-called 'friends' had been the one to set up the second attack. Even though he was quite sure Sam and Julian would've gone ahead without her, Julia was still instrumental in orchestrating and carrying out the overall thing. "I love you. And I forgive you… I could never hate you. Why don't you forgive yourself? It's the only way we can move forward together, you know?"

"It's not easy, Ang. You know that. It'll take time…

"I know," Angel smiled warmly. "And it'll happen. But you also gotta do something… we always used to say it. Forget regret… I know there's _heaps_ of regrets, but you gotta forget them. It's over now; we have each other again! Sam was an important part of your life and you gotta accept that… before you and I have any chance to be together again. You understand what I'm telling you?"

Oh yeah, Collins understood alright. But like he said, it was very difficult because he had to live with what he had done – and Angel had the physical scars and the emotional ones of the memories of living through those traumatic hours, so it wasn't easy to forget the past – to embrace it and let it go on his own terms when fate had so obviously decided to force it back into his arms. What Angel was saying that it was ok and good to forget the past… but you gotta accept it, embrace it, and let it go first, before you're able to move on. The thing with Angel was that he was in the unique position to know that… he had been all along. For what felt like the longest time, he couldn't communicate with his friends or anyone but he heard a lot more than he could verbalise or communicate at the time. He saw Collins and his friends go through the various stages that accompany a tragedy, or in this case – tragedies. Tragic circumstances unto realise the love that really had never left them, but their differences had clouded the real thing. Angel was in a position where all he could do was see how people were reacting to him; reacting to what happened… and it was frustrating because he never wanted any of it. He didn't want to be the cause of someone's tears or pain… he didn't want to have them sit there and make him hear or see the pain they were in. But slowly he came to understand it… and it wasn't until Collins left again that he realised just how much history he had with Sam… how much love they must have felt for each other for both of them to be reacting as emotionally and yes, even as violently, as they were. There was passion – not love, Angel was sure of that – but a passion that both felt… because they had once upon a time meant so much to each other that both were having a hard time comprehending the other in the position they were in, and saying the things they were saying. But Angel loved Collins with all his soul, so it wasn't hard for him to understand it. He had been in both the positions to love _and_ hate the professor, and no matter what he had felt… all that time it had been a passion emotion. It wasn't something of indifference, and so slowly it was a realization that Collins was experiencing with him what he had shared with Sam not so long ago… and it scared him. Angel could see the fear. Collins never saw the drug thing happening until it was forced in front of him; and Angel knew Collins' heart… his fear… the fear of not knowing. The fear of not knowing his lover as well as he wants to… the fear of not being able to stop the hurt and pain even if he saw it coming towards him. And now, Collins was afraid again. In experiencing what he had with Angel once before, with Sam, it was enough to bring up all those fears of hurting Angel and not be able to ease his pain. For the longest time after leaving Sam, Collins tormented himself with thoughts of where he went wrong, and why he couldn't see it coming, and why he couldn't get help for Sam… was his love and passion for the younger man so deep that he was blind to all else?

No… Angel understood alright. Collins is a passionate person, and he wasn't afraid of getting hurt – he was afraid of not being able to prevent happening to the person he loves. And he feels like he failed twice… but now he saw redemption. He saw another chance with Angel, probably his last that he never got with Sam. It was these conflictions that were eating him up, and now with the possibility that Julia, his friend, may have committed an unspeakable act that could've killed his lover… once again Collins was bringing in to question his ability to give Angel the safety that he couldn't give Sam. So he had tried to block out his past with Sam, or at least write it off as not meaning much… but listening to Angel clearly mark things as they were… it wasn't something that could be ignored. Collins could not longer afford to ignore what everything was telling him, even for the sake of his love… because it was doing that, with Sam _and_ with Angel that almost killed them both. Collins despised Sam now, but Angel was again right… he couldn't bring himself to hurt a person who had once meant so much to him, and whom he had so much history with… and had shared so much love with. It wasn't in his nature, true. But the intangible qualities that had come to define both of the two serious relationships he had experienced in his life – Samuel Michaels and Angel Schunard – were now the only thing that could save Collins from the brink of madness… and save his relationship with Angel. He had let himself lose Sam… he wasn't about to let himself lose Angel.

And the thing was… Angel knew it all. Collins didn't have to tell him a thing, about what he was feeling or whatever… Angel could see it; no matter the pain and emotional hell he had suffered, his ability to see what others could not, or would not, was incredible. Especially with Collins. There was nothing they couldn't hide from each other. Maybe that's why Angel was so calm in the face of this new problem with Julia, because he knew Collins better than anyone, perhaps even Sam. Angel knew his history. His pain. His past. His heart. Angel knew every aspect of Collins' soul, so he couldn't even attempt to hide it without Angel knowing something wasn't right…

"Baby, you know it's okay to not want Sam dead," Angel whispered seriously. "I know. Believe me. I know how much he meant to you… if he was to die, I know you'd be sad…"

"No," Collins growled. Denial. Ahh, isn't it a wonderful thing? "I wouldn't care…"

"No you would," Angel insisted, smoothly. "You would, honey. Because he had meant so much love to you… your first love… and love you experience… a small part of it will never die in you. Never. It can't. Because if it did, we'd never learn from our mistakes… we'd never grow up… we'd never learn how to love again after falling down. If we let the love go entirely, would we ever get it back?"

"But what he did—"

"Yeah, he's an asshole, I know," Angel chuckled lightly. "And I'm gonna carry the scars off this asshole forever, you know? And I gotta deal with it… live with it… but I refuse to let it kill me, Collins. I can't. I mean, I survived two knife attacks already so I don't think my time here is up yet. But forgive, baby. Forgive and let it go, cause that's the only way we're gonna get our chance, you know what I'm saying? Accept it, and then let it go. Let Sam go, because I get the feeling that you never did… you never got over his betrayal. And I guess you feared I'd do the same thing—"

"No, I—"

"Let me finish! It's only natural; honey, to compare me with him… I get it. I do! But… how the hell are we gonna get a chance to live our lives together if you won't learn from your mistakes with him? If you won't let go of the guilt you feel over those mistakes?" Angel reached up and gently, cautious of his hand wounds, cupped Collins' face in his hands, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. "I love you, baby. I forgive you. And I'm letting it go. Will you do the same? Please?"

Collins knew Angel was making sense, and for what was the first time in many months, he could actually feel every muscle in his body relaxing, like Angel's soothing, angelic voice and the beauty of his words had penetrated his heart again and spread through into his blood; through his veins and arteries like an antidote to the poison of guilt, pain, and the fear. Most importantly, the fear… because it was this fear that only exonerated the poisonous, dangerous spread of the guilt and pain.

"What about Julia?" he finally squeaked out, saying the first thing that came to his mind. "What about her? I'm the one—"

"She made the decision, baby," Angel firmly assured. "You didn't stick the needle in her arm. And you didn't make her choose them. You didn't know. Even if you did, you know how hard it is to break a junkie… you know that…"

Okay, I know what you all must be thinking – isn't it supposed to be the other way around? That Angel's supposed to turn into the little weakling while Collins consoles him? How come Angel is being strong in the face of such a huge revelation? Well, who knows for certain? But we can't forget the complexity that is Angel's nature. The best explanation would be that like he said – everything had happened so quickly, and so much of it had happened to him, that nothing was of surprising consequence anymore. A general state of acceptance, maybe. The calmness wasn't masking anything on the inside; this was his true reaction to Julia's revelation. He also saw the tremendous pain she had been in, in confessing to them before falling to the ground… was she truly remorseful? He couldn't say for sure, no one can. But at times like these, who is to make assumptions anymore? It seemed that the more assumptions that were made, the more fucked up things became from them… all he wanted to do now was focus on Collins. And his friends. Recovering. And then finding out the truth.

"I know you forgive me, Ang," Collins sniffed. "That's why I don't know why it's still hurting…"

"Because you haven't forgiven yourself," Angel replied instantly. "That's the only way you can move on. The only way we can move on. It'll take time I know that… but just try, honey."

It was an unspoken connection and maybe Collins did need to hear those words… from Angel, only. Slowly his barriers were breaking down, and he hadn't let go of his past. But staring at Angel who was speaking such strong words yet still in such a vulnerable state, it definitely put things into perspective. Love heals. Love is strong. And I'm not just talking about the love that Angel and Collins share, I'm talking about the friendships too. Collins once wished he could have the pureness and innocent love of Angel; the head-strong nature of Maureen, and the ability to see things like Mark, and to not be afraid to say what he wants like Mimi; to see things logically and clearly like Joanne, or to tell things like it is through passionate words and songs like Roger, or even be able to pick up and leave as easily as Benny… but now as it comes down to the last chance, there was nothing left but himself. Collins could only learn to respect and cherish himself as well as he did his friends for things to be able to get better, that's what Angel was saying. Maybe now the words were finally beginning to sink in.

Angel, believing he had said all that he needed to and didn't want to say another word more, placed his sore hand at the back of Collins' head and his lover took the hint, leaning down – their lips met and pressed against each other, both feeling the warmth and the safety. As the kiss deepened, and they became more involved with each other, all their worries briefly just disappeared… even if it was only momentarily, at least for a split second, there was peace in both of them.

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Hmm... I know I said someone was gonna die in this chapter, but I may drag things out just a little bit longer. MUAHAHAHAHA! **

Anyway, coming up in the next chapter, Julia reluctantly faces Collins again… and the reaction she gets from him will be priceless. A new character enters as Angel talks to a priest he knew as a child.

**We're in the home stretch for the final chapter, which will be happening in about three chapters time (I haven't decided yet, it could change)**

**Got any final ideas or questions? Let me know! Always open for suggestions or constructive criticism.**


	30. Chapter 30

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 30**

**_SUMMARY:_ WOOT! WOOT! Chapter thirty! Who knew? Well, I had no idea I could drag the story out this long, as after chapter 15 the damn thing kinda wrote itself. Oh and the beautiful reviews I got that boosted my ego enough hahaha! Thanks guys! Much love goes to you all. Anyway – enough of the self-glorification! In this chapter, a reluctant Julia returns to face the consequences of her actions from the two people she fears most now.**

**I must apologise for the slacking off in updates, it's just because I've been unmotivated to write these past few days. Sigh I'll do better, I promise. Oh, and sorry if this chapter is a little duller than others. This is more of a segue for the next chapter. But I hope you like it all the same.**

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She hadn't expected to see him so soon; standing outside of Angel's room… she hardly expected him to leave Angel's side. And she certainly hadn't expected him to help her get medical attention… she thought he'd have just left her lying there, and the thought had crossed Collins' mind to do so on more than one occasion. The thought of throwing her against the wall and getting answers from her that way had also entered as a possibility. But the two faced each other, though Julia was staring at the ground, afraid to look at the man, the friend she'd betrayed; though Collins was staring icily at her – his gaze was penetrating and perilous; like all she had to do was say a wrong word and he wouldn't hesitate to go after her. That's probably what would happen, too, but given her revelation Collins had amazing self-control, even surprising himself with his restraint. If he was to get the answers to the questions plaguing him, then aggravating Julia's injuries further wouldn't help his cause… though it may provide some temporary satisfaction and alleviation of the hurt and betrayal he was feeling.

Julia kicked at the ground, nervously fidgeting and trying to think of some sort of explanation that would satisfy her professor, though she didn't expect, nor would ask for forgiveness. She believed she didn't deserve anything but to rot in hell for what she did, and she probably would.

"Tom, I… I don't know what to say," she muttered.

"The truth would be nice," he hissed. "And look at me. You owe me that." Julia knew considerable restraint was being held on Collins' part, and she silently thanked him for that. The least she could do was to look him in the eyes while giving him the answers he was looking for, as crushing as it would be to her. It was kinda a mixed thing for Collins – he didn't know what to think or what to feel… after all, he had done the same thing as she had. Caused considerable hurt and betrayal for his friends… hurt them in ways he never thought he could do. So some may very well say that it would be hypocritical for him to come down on her now, well let's just say he wasn't in the most stable of mindsets. The one thing Collins would NEVER do, though, was mingle with drug dealers and those whom he thought could hurt his friends. Maybe that's the one factor that gave him permission to act as he was and not be held back by the restraints of hypocrisy. Julia deliberately went out to sacrifice Angel for drugs. With Collins, he was in an emotional tailspin… he didn't know what he was doing until he did it. I know, I know, it's no excuse… but it's an explanation. This was _so_ not the same situation and they both knew it.

Julia was more than a little hesitant when it came to obeying Collins' wishes, for she feared what she would find in his eyes when she looked into them. That fear was enough to keep her eyes firmly locked on the same spot on the floor, and Collins sighed in frustration and walked over to her. He violently grabbed her arm and shook her.

"I want answers, Julia," he growled; his eyes almost flashing red with rage. "Now. That's the only thing keeping me from throwing you down those stairs over there." Ooh. Note the _intense _reaction from Collins… was he losing the plot_ again_? That was not a type of thing he would say… certainly not a threat to a woman. Maybe he was just blinded by his love and dedication not to blow this second chance with Angel that stripped him of every moral and principled fiber in his body when it came to Julia... not that it was very surprising. If I had gone through the hell he's been through, I'd probably be very, very pissed off as well. Who knows?

Julia whimpered as he let go of her arm and lifted her head, and as she expected, he didn't at all look very happy.

"Tom, I…" she stammered, unable to hold the eye contact for very long, so he placed his index finger under her chin and raised her head enough so she was forced to look at him.

"Don't you fucking dare…" he spat, knowing that she was gonna say the words 'sorry' or 'please' or 'forgive me' – he couldn't take any of that bullshit. He just wanted to know the truth right here and now. Angel had convinced him to not lose his temper and to let Julia explain what happened, as her words before she fainted were so cryptic without an accompanying explanation. It hadn't taken him long at all to piece together the likely explanation for her hysterics, and he didn't wanna believe it… but when he saw those needle marks, the reality hit him that Julia Sampson wasn't the young woman he had come to befriend, and once he heard it from her mouth… that would be it. Could he forgive her? Who the hell knows… he can barely forgive himself let alone anyone else. But we all know how much harder it is to forgive ourselves than it is to forgive others. So now was the moment of truth when everything would fall apart for them and Julia's dark secrets would be revealed to everyone she had come to know and respect. She didn't know how Collins could stand there in judgment of her when he had fucked up worse than she did – he was the one who set this whole thing in motion to begin with! HE was the one who cheated on Angel; HE was the one who ran away and broke his friends' hearts; HE was the one who lied and deceived everyone… but she was the one who exploited him. She was the one who sold her soul for cocaine. She was the one who was responsible for everything falling apart between them and almost destroying them both for a second time. So really they both were of equal fault, but the difference was this – with Angel being the innocent victim in both of the resulting consequences of their fucked up decision, Julia's motive was of pure monetary value. Collins was just screwed up.  
So, in Julia's mind, maybe he did have a right to stand before her, hating her…being repulsed by her… and yes, want to throw her down a flight of stairs. Maybe that was his prerogative to think such negative thoughts to her, especially since she lied to him and said all she wanted to do was help him and Angel, and be there for them all if they wanted her.

"Tell me what you gotta say," the harshness and underlying hated (of himself and her) of Collins' voice broke through. "Tell me it's not what I think it is," he choked up. "Tell me I'm wrong. You know what I mean. Tell me it's not true, Julia… tell me that…"

She didn't respond.

"Look at me, dammit!" he yelled, catching the attention of several nurses and doctors who proceeded to scold him and tell him to quiet down. After apologizing half-heartedly, Collins turned his attention back to the trembling young woman standing in front of him, and folded his arms over his chest. He could be as menacing as ever if he had to be, and the normally quiet, subdue, warm, friendly Tom Collins was now replaced with someone who no longer tolerated all this bullshit that almost cost him everything. Sure enough, Julia was shaking badly and on the verge of tears, yet he felt no sympathy… no urge to reach out to pull her into a hug. No desire to comfort her in this time of distress that she really brought upon herself. In his mind now, the more she delayed telling him the truth, the more she grew scared of him and his reaction… the guiltier it made her seem and subsequently the less he thought of her. Losing respect for someone can happen in an instant, despite the fact that it takes years to build up trust, love, and respect.

"Tom, ple—"

"Say it and I _WILL_ do something I'll probably regret. Just tell me the truth. Now!"

He was forcing her into a position she hoped he wouldn't put her in… she was already feeling guilty enough as it was; she didn't need him to make her feel bad. What could she say that would ease the hurt he was experiencing? God knows he didn't need her begging for forgiveness or putting him in a position which would force him to choose between doing what was right and what he wanted to do. Collins could go on living the rest of his life without seeing her… now he was willing to make that sacrifice. He still held out hope that she hadn't meant what she said before she collapsed, but the look on Julia's face told him that his fears were probably true, as was his logical deduction of all the signs that led to only the one conclusion. Julia's hesitance to look at him was all he needed for confirmation and now she was stepping on his last, already broken down nerve.

"Julia… all I want is the truth. God's honest truth."

Julia fell down onto the chair, gripping the sides of it so tightly it was like she was welded to it. This was all too much and she burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably… again, gaining no sympathy from her now presumably former friend. Collins didn't move from his standing position, and now stood in front of the light which then cast an ominous shadow over the young woman. Finally she looked up and saw the darkness on Collins' face; the seriousness…

"What do you want me to say?" she whispered, her bottom lip quivering. "What does it matter what I tell you? You won't forgive me…"

"Probably not," Collins agreed harshly. "I just wanna know why. Why you did this… if it's true."

"I didn't… I swear, professor," she sobbed. "I didn't… I didn't mean for it to turn out like it did! I didn't know Julian as gonna do it, I swear!"

"But you knew he had a knife, right? You knew what he wanted to do. Even if you didn't, you knew it was putting Angel in danger!" the loss of composure would become evident if he didn't keep a check on himself, but there was no control over this situation. They were walking blindly through it, not knowing how to behave or act or feel. Julia hung her head, wishing he would just stop doing this to her now… she wasn't feeling well and the overwhelmed feeling after everything… she wasn't as mentally up for this as she would have like to have been. But it all had to come to a head sooner or later…

"I don't know what I was thinking!" she replied, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "God, you're gonna hate me when I tell you why. I know what I did was stupid!"

"Oh trust me," he bitterly snapped. "I think I already got a good idea what went down. I saw the track marks on your arm."

Julia didn't know what to say to that, though she wasn't surprised… Collins was very intuitive when it came to these things and it wouldn't have been difficult for him to piece 2 + 2 together. Why would she have made arrangements with Sam? What could he possibly have to offer her except… see? It isn't hard to imagine. She tugged at the collar of her shirt and undid a button so she wouldn't feel so claustrophobic in her own clothes.

"You know?" she softly reiterated. Collins nodded, sadly.

"Oh yeah," he gave a soft, sardonic chuckle. "Who'd ever have guessed, huh? I didn't. Before I saw those marks, I didn't wanna believe you'd be in business with Sam Michaels. I saw no reason why you'd associate yourself with scum like that… only now to realise that you're really no better than he is. I wondered 'why would someone as brilliant as Julia even talk to Sam? What the fuck do they have in common?'… Guess I shoulda seen it coming. And yeah I know it's my fault again, for leaving Angel alone… but never did I think betrayal could come from you. Of all people."

The bitterness and hatred of his words were only further deepened into Julia's soul by the softness and lack of aggression from which he spoke. That was only to suggest that his emotional reaction was getting in the way of rational thought. He wasn't hysterical. He wasn't pounding the walls in anger. Julia watched his expression turn from disappointment to confusion and even sadness… responsibility fell onto Collins' shoulders again for he failed to see the warning signs, as subtle and as indiscriminate as they were. She could see that he blamed himself just as much, if not more, than he blamed her. Julia would rather see Collins angry than as sad as he was… anger was very much more of a surfaced-based emotion, it didn't last long – it was something experienced usually in the heat of the moment. A reaction. Often if covered the true pain of someone. But how he was acting now… Julia could actually see the depth of the anguish she had caused him and Angel… she could feel it.

"It had been days without a fix," she closed her eyes as she began to explain. "It was hard. I wanted to be there for you but I couldn't… I wasn't there. It was like I was an empty shell! I could only see and hear things, I couldn't feel anything… I didn't know who Julian was, I swear. And then he introduced me to Sam… I knew what he wanted. I knew what they both wanted." She sniffed and rested her head in her hands, ashamed as she reminisced.

"I said no. I would never do that…" she looked up at him. "But then things got complicated. Sam insisted all he wanted to do was talk to you, and that it was really important. I asked what was so important to him, and he said love. He said he wanted to let you go and that talking to you was the only way to do it. He then offered me two bags of uncut cocaine… worth over $5000. He said there was more. And that he'd take care of me… that I wouldn't have to go back home."

"How did he know about your home situation?"

"I asked him the same thing. He told me he had his sources. He told me he could guarantee that no one would ever find out about the drugs… if they did, I'd be expelled. I'd have a criminal record. I couldn't afford that."

Collins narrowed his eyes. "So you sold out Angel to protect your own interests?"

She shook her head. "No, I told you it wasn't like that! My wanting the drugs was only fueled further when he gave me those assurances. I wasn't thinking about Angel at the time… I wasn't thinking…" Julia looked around the hospital. No one gave them a passing glance as they went about their daily business, though she kinda wished someone would just interrupt them so she could get away. A sudden rush of sadness mixed with frustration and self-loathing came to the surface. Now it was her turn to ramble on.

"What do you want me to say, Tom? What more can I tell you? You want me to get on my knees and beg? Cause I will. I don't know what fucking came over me, and I got no excuses for it! You want me to tell you how fucked up I am? What a horrible, evil person I am? Well you don't have to, cause I already feel like shit, okay! Say what you want to me, do whatever you… throw me down those stairs if you want, because really it won't make one damn bit of difference! It'll be _nothing_ compared to what I'm doing to myself, okay? I know! I know it all, God damn it I have to live with it. I have to feel it. Just like you do, I don't easily get over it… okay, I hate myself. Get it? I'm not proud of what I did, but I did it! And I won't be getting over it anytime soon, so if you want me to wither in pain, then don't worry cause I will be!" she flailed her arms in a desperate way. "I've never don't something like this before, and I never wanna do it again! If it'll make you feel better, you can do whatever the hell you want to me, because I really don't give a fuck anymore, okay? I'm terrified, Collins. I'm scared of what this fucking addiction is doing to me, yes I know I got one and no I don't know how to stop it! It's gotten to the point where I'm hurting you and Angel and that's not something I wanna do! I never wanted to hurt any of you," her tone softened as did her eyes. Collins could see so much in them. Desperation. Fright. A lack of self control. "Please, Tom…" she continued. "You gotta believe me; you HAVE to! I don't know what to do anymore… what else can I tell you! Huh? Just tell me what I gotta do to make things right!"

Collins remained silent. It was his turn to decide now – he could reject Julia for the pathetic little girl she was. Or he could decide to do something he wouldn't normally let himself do… forgive her. But it wasn't his decision to make, he knew, it was Angel's. After all, Angel was the victim that came out of the tragic consequences of Julia's selfishness. It would be up to him. How can it be that he was so mixed up? He was supposed to hate her and want to beat the shit out of her and toss her out of his life forever, but standing there looking down at the terrified, shaking, and obviously remorseful young woman… Julia was someone he cared about very dearly and just like he couldn't stop loving Angel, so to he couldn't stop caring about a friend so easily.

He leaned against the wall, holding back both rage and the desire to cry at the same time, and it wasn't easy. His muscles tensed up and he couldn't bring himself to look at the woman he once held as a close friend… Julia watched him, expectantly. Whatever he wanted to say to her; now was the time to say it. She stood up.

"Tom, I am so sor—"

"Don't," he cut her off softly. He didn't wanna hear it; he didn't need to hear it… and he wasn't the one who should be hearing it. "Shut up. I'm not the one you should be saying it to. Angel almost died because of you. If you're looking for absolution or whatever the fuck it is you need to make yourself feel better… talk to him…" Collins then stepped aside from his position next to the door and made a swift gesture towards the door, silently imploring Julia to go into Angel's room and face the real punishment of what she did. If this was how bad she felt with him, wait until she experienced Angel's wrath – not in a mean kind of way, but she would have to face the very consequences of her decisions and resulting actions. The scars would probably be enough to send her over the edge. Julia hesitated, fidgeting nervously on the spot, before conceding the need for her to do this now before anymore damage was caused. Julia nodded and moved past him. In a split second decision, Collins stepped in front of her to block her path.

"What--?"

Without a word, Collins pulled her into a loving embrace, wrapping his arms around her and closed his eyes. Shocked by the sudden change in his behavior, it was a few moments before Julia responded to the hug… but then she started crying again and buried her head against his neck, sobbing. The one gesture of at least forgiveness on his part was something she desperately needed and forever would she be grateful for the little bit of mercy he seemed to be giving her. Collins was right though, it was from Angel where she would need to do what was right.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his neck; Collins could feel her warm breath brushing against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. "I'm so sorry, Tom. I didn't mean it; honest to God I didn't mean it!"

"I know," he whispered back, wishing it was easier to forgive her. At least this was a step, right? "I know. I don't know what to do with you now… this ain't up to me, anymore. You betrayed us…"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Collins, please! I'm so sorry I was so stupid, I just… need help now, I didn't mean for Angel to get hurt again!"

Saying the word 'again', for Collins, brought everything back into perspective and the context of the situation was not as simple as it may now seem. Angel was injured in the hospital while he was trying to recover from being raped and almost killed by Sam, following a huge argument with Collins whom he hadn't seen for almost three months at that time. When Julia said 'I didn't mean for Angel to get hurt again'… for Collins, he knew that this added stress on Angel was nothing short of his fault anymore than it was Julia's. He bit his lip.

"I know," he replied sadly. He was genuine, too… he knew Julia wasn't the mean, evil person she seemed now… she'd never maliciously hurt anyone for the sake of it. "I can't tell ya I forgive you, baby… but I can't hate you either. It's Angel who needs to hear this from you." Collins kissed her forehead and pulled away to look at her, cupping her face in his hands. This sudden change in him was curious to say the least, and at the most it was shocking… it was because of Julia's recklessness that almost killed Angel.

Julia took a deep breath and looked past him at the closed door of Angel's room, nervous to go in, but afraid not to.

"He won't… he won't wanna listen to me."

"He will. He's strapped to the damn bed with tubes and bandages, I don't think he's going anywhere too soon." He offered a small smile, one of weariness. Collins couldn't bring himself to throw Julia out of his life, not after what she _has_ done from him – if it wasn't for her, he would never have had the courage to come back to Angel. Granted, none of the bad shit would've gone down either but still…

"Angel's a good person," he added with certainty. "A real angel, he is. He'll listen. He's waiting for you, okay? He was the one who convinced me to listen to you long enough and _not_ throw you down the stairs…"

"He did that? Why?"

"Too many witnesses. Only joking," he added quickly after seeing the horrified reaction from her. "I have no fucking idea why. That's just the person he is... but you should ask him," he added lightly. Julia appreciated Collins' attempts to lighten her mood somewhat, given that in all honesty she really did not deserve it. Maybe Angel's beautifully; amazingly loving personality was beginning to rub off on his lover and that so wouldn't be a bad thing at all. Everything was too screwed up for anything to make sense anymore, so maybe it would be easier for Collins to forgive her… maybe it would be easier than to purposefully confront these issues when confrontation wasn't needed.

"Julia, only Angel can tell you if you can make this right. This ain't something I'm ready to forgive you for…the cut is just too deep, you know? But maybe you could work at it. I just think… maybe its best you stay away for a bit. Just until you get help."

Julia nodded, understanding his words. Collins hesitated. "Maybe you also consider maybe turning yourself in…"

She looked up. "What!"

"If you don't, I will. You gotta take the responsibility, girl you know it. The first step to making it right."

"Collins, wait," she protested. "I can't… I can't have a criminal record, I can't—"

"Fuck!" Collins let out an exasperated cry. She was playing both sides here; she couldn't have it both ways. "Julia, you're not getting it! Angel almost died because you set him up. Like I said… I don't know if I can ever forgive you for that, so I have no trouble fucking you over if you force me to. Listen to me. Angel is my concern. Not you. To be totally candid, I don't care what happens to you. Not unless you make the effort to make this right, and you know what you have to do to make things right."

"Collins, please!"

"No. I still care about you Julia, but if you don't do the right thing for Angel now… well I won't have a choice."

Julia was working herself up in to hysterics as the prospect of having to go to jail, something she never really considered until now. The look on Collins' face told her he was so serious about going to the cops. It was an inner battle now… doing the right thing versus self preservation. I think we've all heard this before…

"Tom, I…" she stammered. "I don't—"

"You serious about setting things straight between us?"

"YES!"

"Then you gotta do it. You wanna make things right with Angel? You ain't going near him unless you do it. I was gonna ask for your word on that but then I remembered that your word don't mean shit anymore. Two choices that both happen to be yours." The ultimatum was set, and in all honesty it was a fair one. Collins still considered Julia dangerous to Angel as long as she was still here and wasn't about to leave them alone. He wasn't gonna put Angel through more hell by letting her in to see him, unless it became an absolute necessity that they must speak. Julia stared at him. Just how far was she willing to go to clear her conscience?

"Fine," she gave in, choked up. "Fine, I'll do it."

**WITH ANGEL**

Patience was not one of Angel's best attributes; he'd be the first to admit. He was slowly learning it though, probably thanks to the time he spent with Collins whose warm, gentle, and patient personality was something that always lit up a room when he entered. Collins kept Angel as grounded as possible without limiting who he was and that was something to be cherished. After putting the phone back on its hook, he pouted as he picked at his nails, wishing badly there was some place nearby that would do an emergency manicure. He hated seeing them in such a terrible state. Angel was brilliant at making use of any resources he could get his hands on to help beautify himself some more, and he was most definitely creative in his abilities to do so. Earlier, wanting to calm down his lover from the state of panicked hysteria, Angel instructed with a lot of insistence, that Collins get himself some food or coffee or whatever and wait for Julia to come back. Angel's trust in him still remained, though wasn't as strong as it used to be and yes, even Angel had his reservations about Collins' mental state and his ability for self control. Now over a week since the initial attack, Angel had plenty to think about and dwell on, but for the sake of his own sanity he chose not to. A little surprised he was that the police yet to come and see him, but glad they haven't.

"Shit!" he muttered, seeing a tiny crack in the top of his nail, one of many that needed serious polishing and filing. "Damn it! Where's a manicurist when you need one?" figuring he could charm his way into getting Collins to buy him one of those cheap, not-the-best-quality nail filers and nail polish, Angel reluctantly relaxed and stopped worrying about it for the time being.

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_

Angel looked up just in time to see the hospital room door creak open and the sight of his boyfriend brought a warm smile to his face.

"Hey baby," he weakly greeted with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Forget Sam and Julian. He was just happy to still be alive.

"What you---" he stopped when Collins walked into the room, and behind him the young woman followed closely, holding onto his arm for support. Trembling, Julia stared at Angel who seemed to be looking more puzzled than anything else. Understandably, he was confused as to the seemingly calmness of Collins' demeanor, and letting the girl who almost killed Angel to actually use him for support. What the hell was going on?

"Umm, Collins…?" he started but trailed off when he couldn't find the words to continue. Sensing Angel's confusion and obvious discomfort, Collins let go of Julia and moved to his lover's bedside.

"Want me to stay?" he asked softly, out of earshot from the girl. Angel nervously glanced back and forth between them and didn't have an honest answer. A part of him wanted Collins to stay and just hold him in what was such a tense situation, but the other part was telling him that he and Julia needed to speak alone. That this was something that she couldn't do with Collins watching over her. "Ang?"

"Um… no, no it's okay," Angel assured. "I think I got it."

"I really think I should—"

"Collins, it's all good, honey. I'm okay." Angel insisted, rubbing Collins arm for added assurance.

"It won't take long."

Collins hesitated and debated the choices he had in front of him, and knew the only thing he would do would be something that resulted in what was best for Angel. But what exactly that was, he didn't know. With great reluctance, Collins finally agreed and placed a soft kiss on Angel's lips, savoring every second of it and pulled back to look at Julia. Whatever would happen between these two, he wanted to be there but understood that Angel wanted this time alone.

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**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ I apologise for it taking so long to post this new chapter. No motivation. Go figure. Anyway, next chapter Angel and Julia talk and Angel's childhood priest comes for a visit.**


	31. Chapter 31

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 31**

**_SUMMARY:_ Angel shares intimate secrets with Julia. Mark goes to visit Sam in jail.**

**NOTE: I wanna apologise for taking so long with this chapter. Aside from personal issues I've had to deal with, I've also been experiencing a serious lack of motivation to keep writing.**

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Collins had left the room almost ten minutes earlier and still a word had yet to be exchanged between the drag queen and the person who had put him in the hospital, negative or positive. Neither knew how to approach this, delicately or otherwise, and the awkward silence only held truth to this – with Angel, he was never used to these awkward moments or being in a position where he could either love or hate someone based on nothing but what was said there and then – not their commonalities or differences; not their history… it was a power that he didn't want anymore than he wanted to hate or distrust Collins. No one ever stays the same after something like this happens to them, but for Angel – he would never be the same as he was before he met Collins. So why was it so hard to talk to this young woman who was obviously scared to death of what he might say or do? For once in his life, Angel was not able to read a person – feel what she was feeling, know what she must have been thinking. There was a roadblock there – Julia and Angel were standing on opposite sides of it just staring at each other, communication inevitable, yet delayed. For Julia, it was the exact polar opposite that kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to know what Angel was thinking or feeling… she didn't want him to say anything at all, because she knew what it would be and a confirmation of Angel's probable hatred was more than likely to send her off the deep end for good. If she really had torn Angel's life apart, she'd rather do all the hating herself than to hear the words come from the one person she feared most. For surely it would mean no other thing than for her to realize what a horrible person she really was. So the two of them just stared at each other, both uncomfortable but unwilling to take the necessary first steps to ease each other's discomfort. One was racked with guilt; the other was plagued with uncertainty, and both were feeling the ill-effects of their own choices and the destiny that had chosen for them selves. Maybe Angel was a little less in control of everything than Julia was, but nevertheless he was feeling the responsibility for how things were turning out – and how this little meeting went would all be determined on how he chose to handle it.

Julia shifted her weight and still made no attempt to do what she had promised Collins she would do, which was to set things right. The hurt she was feeling did not pass Angel by, but he was hardly in a position to tell her things were going to be okay when clearly they were not. Man, this was awkward.

"So…" Angel made the first weak attempt to kill the deafening silence. "What now?"

Julia took a deep, sharp breath and hooked her index fingers around the metal rail bar at the end of the bed. What could she say that could possibly satisfy the need for an explanation, for the person whose life she practically ruined? More importantly, why was this getting so difficult that it was at the point where she could barely breathe without feeling the sharp sting of guilt. What made it all worse was the knowledge that no matter what she said or did or whether they forgave her or not or whether she went to jail or not, she'd never escape it. Never.

"I dunno," she whimpered. "Angel, I dunno… I don't know what to say."

"Honey, you ain't the only one."

Angel's belief in the good in all people and in humanity in general was obviously way compromised now, but not his ability to know when someone was telling the truth or not. Living his lifestyle, Angel often enough encountered people of the dangerous kind, and from his experiences he knew deep down that Julia was not a dangerous person. She was only a naïve child who was caught up with a dangerous habit that overcame her, and so it was hard to hate her for that. Angel was hardly in a position to judge her habit, when his lifestyle was just as dangerous at times. I know, that's stupid right? But remember who Angel is… what his life is, and maybe it would not be so hard to understand. Like Collins said earlier… Angel had no capacity to hate anyone, but the betrayal he felt cut deeper than any hatred ever could. Having everything he believed in and loved about life thrown back in his face with so much force by someone his lover had felt was so good.

"Angel, I—"

"Look," the drag queen cut her off. "I love Collins, and he's all that matters to me. And I got nothing to do with this anymore, you hear? Nothing."

Julia stepped back, Angel's cryptic words sure to come back and haunt her at some point. What did he mean? "I—"

"And every time he kisses me, I can't hate him anymore. I need him more. I can't hate Collins for his past anymore than I can hate you for your life. That's not who I am anymore… that's not who I was…"

"Angel, please—"

"When I left home, like, eight years ago… I vowed never to become my parents. Wasted products of a society who appreciates nothing but money and power over love and friendship." Angel stared at his hands, interlocking his fingers and gazing at the bandages that covered the deep wounds. There was no point in dragging this out any further but how to put this as delicately as possible, not wanting to lose control of this anymore. For so long now Angel had no control over what happened to him, while others like Collins, Sam, Julian, Julia, and his friends… all for different reasons they tried to control what happened to Angel, but no longer could he afford to let them, good intentions or no.

"You know what I mean? Whatever you did girl… I don't wanna know what you did. I couldn't take it. Whatever it was, I just would rather not know... for so long my life has been about being everything people didn't want me to be, and making the perfect outfits and be everything I wanna be. I wanna go back to that."

"Can you?"

"Probably not. I can try though, right?"

Julia didn't respond either way. Angel closed his eyes and oddly, a small smile spread across his face. Okay…

"It's like I'm being told by God, Himself that enough is enough, you know? Like what I'm doing is wrong, but it feels right. With Collins, I mean. Even if it means I'm condemned to hell, I'd still never go on without feeling his arms around me… now Collins feels like I'm being punished for it. For his mistakes. Whatever. You've seen it now, Julia… what do you think?"

The student was slightly shocked at Angel's relaxed and cryptic, and often complex ramblings. She knew he had a big heart and experiences she couldn't ever imagine, but this was ridiculous… looking into his eyes she couldn't see one ounce of anger or contempt. Instead it looked like he was calm… serene. It was actually kind of intimidating for Julia as she didn't know what he was thinking.

"I… I don't know," she stammered. "Angel, I—"

"No matter what, it's like this shitty world takes a lot of pleasure in watching people like you and me fuck up and eventually die," Angel scoffed bitterly. Julia licked her lips which had dried from nervousness. "Some way to measure your life, yeah?"

"You… you and me?" she repeated. Angel nodded.

"Yeah. You know, everyone staring and pointing, none of them understanding or knowing how fabulous our lives really are. You don't fit in at home any more than I do on the Upper East Side, do you?"

Finding her voice, and her nerve, had run away from her, Julia nodded her head quickly in agreement. Angel smiled at weakly lifted his hand, gesturing Julia with his index finger, motioning her to move forward and come be next to him. She understandably hesitated and was nervous with Angel's lack of aggression towards her, and put it down to the drugs and his incapacitated state that was keeping him calm. Angel again motioned to her, this time a bit more aggressively, and she moved forwards slowly, around the end of the bed, and walked up beside him. Angel then reached over and lightly curled his fingers around her hand, feeling the warmth of her though she was visibly shaking badly. In an attempt to calm the nerves, Angel ran his thumb over her soft skin and a wave of curiosity consumed him. Angel didn't have to hear the words to know the full extent of Julia's wrongdoing, the full extent of her participation in Sam's 'quest' to hurt him – already he knew just how involved she had to have been. For her to explain what she did now would serve no other purpose than to force him to relieve the past week when really he didn't want to, nor should have to. Julia didn't have the heart to pull away as she would alienate them both from each other further, so instead she just watched him. His eyes were firmly locked onto her hand, as if she was so delicate that she'd break should the utmost care not be taken. He then stretched his fingers, spreading them out over her hand, and gently pressing her skin and then lifting his hand away and seeing the white imprint marks he left there. Quickly the marks disappeared as the warm pink colouring returned and Angel was oddly fascinated with it… paying close detail to Julia's hand. A curious and somewhat strange behavior for him to engage in, given that this was the young woman who was responsible for Julian slitting his throat, but he wasn't thinking of that right now.

"Everything will be okay," he whispered, not to Julia or anyone. Just a general comment. "A promise made to me…."

Julia felt her mouth dry up and could only utter a few dry syllables, reeling from the tense and undesirable situation that had emerged. She fully expected Angel to yell at her, cry, and make her feel a hundred times worse than she had already done to herself, but Angel was calm. Relaxed. Even smiling at her through the weakness brought about by the medicine, and not at all looking out of place or uncomfortable. It was like he knew something she didn't. Julia shook herself out of the daze she was in.

"By w—who?" she asked; only managing two words, though expected him to say Collins, but Angel giggled.

"Erica. One of my best friends. Of course, her driver's license actually says Eric Masters. But when I met her she was all-woman and I wanted to be exactly like her. Clothes, hair, make-up… the love of life. Everything. She rocked and I was her protégé. Her child. She taught me everything about surviving – on the streets, being gay, being in love… learning how to live and handle myself before I would be able to take on the world. She was the epitome of femininity and had the sexual prowess of any diva at that time…" Angel explained, linking fingers with Julia. "She's fifteen years older than me, so she was like a second mother to me, given that my own mom doesn't wanna know me anymore. Whatever, you know? Anyway…" he sighed. "Erica introduced me to the wonderful world of the drag queens. A beautiful world. She bought me my first pair of really nice, expensive heels. She and her boyfriend, Jordan, gave them to me for my seventeenth birthday and oh my God, Julia, you should've seen it. They threw me this huge bash, including male strippers and everything, can you believe it? Anyway, that's where I laid eyes on my first boyfriend, Nicholas. My God, a more beautiful creature I had never laid eyes on… well, a that time at least," he added with a small smile, and Julia knew at that moment he was thinking of Collins. The soft expression on Angel's face told her so. He quickly snapped back to what he was talking about.

"And… and…" he licked his lips and became a little more serious. "Afterwards… after people went home or passed out on the floor, or went to have sex in the back rooms or whatever… afterwards, Erica took me to the roof and we sat on the ledge. Just sat there, silently, for like an hour… she then took my hand in hers and looked at me, smiling just the way she always did. It was a comforting smile, and I adored it… Erica always made me feel so safe and that no matter what happened, the world was not always an evil place, that there was some good left in it and that it was worth fighting for… and she always taught me that people were good, it's just that it was easier to see in some than in others. And that life was worth living for no matter how hard it seemed to get or how much it seemed like it was against you." He smiled serenely, loving the memories of his times with the diva who taught him everything he knew about life and accepting who he was, and loving himself. Julia stood there silently, but saw a tear roll down his cheek.

"Right away I could tell something wasn't right. Something was… different about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it. So finally, I asked her what was wrong and she just took me in her arms and said 'Angel… my Angel… you've become who you were born to be. Never let that go, okay?' And I didn't know what she was talking about, and I became scared. I asked her again, what was wrong. She didn't respond right away and so I asked her again, with more force, and so she told me… she said, 'I'm dying, Angel.' I didn't know what to say. I was shocked. I couldn't believe it or say anything, so she continued. She said, 'Angel, I got sick. I've got AIDS. I've had it for a long time now.' This was just at the start of the AIDS epidemic so not many people, including me, knew what it was. I don't think even she knew what it was, but she just knew she was gonna die…" his eyes lowered and blinked away the tears. Painful.

"And," he continued this time, with a sense of sadness… choked up. "And I just remember bursting out into tears and she held me, just like she always had. And she kissed my forehead and told me that no matter what, it was gonna be okay… because we shared so much love, that she'd always live on inside me. That I'd never have to go throw anything, good or bad, alone… that she'd be with me the good times and comfort me through the bad. And she told me to never give up on the world; on people… because only when I give up will hate take over me. She told me to never stop loving no matter what."

Julia sat down on the bed.

"She lived her entire life not knowing what was gonna happen, but loved every second of it… she taught me to do the same," Angel sniffed. "She died, like, two months later. At the hospital. Her family came, but the only two people she wanted to see was me and Jordan. It was like she saw it coming, you know… and she saw so many people around her, who she touched so much, crying and so sad. Including me. And now, when I see my friends… and Collins… and everyone crying because of me, it's like they're actually crying for Erica. Not me. Like she touched them. Through me. And I hate it. Because I am who I am… because of her. And she can't be here to tell me it's gonna be okay, and to hold me again… I get hurt and she can't be here to tell me that there is still some good left, that there is hope, you know?" tears streamed down his face more freely and Julia instinctively reached over and wiped them away with her fingers. Angel initially flinched at her touch but quickly relaxed. "Erica taught me everything. I can't get her out of my system. But now I just don't know if what I feel… the hope… is me, or if it's Erica's spirit in me. Like I can't control it."

To have Angel question who he was, was the ultimate sign of his spirit breaking down and it was killing Julia to know that she was the mainly responsible for it.

"Angel, it's all you," she whispered. "I'm so sorry… I know I don't know you like the others, but I know it's all you. I know it."

"How?"

"Because Collins… he sees it too. If it wasn't you, he'd know it. Wouldn't he?"

Angel sniffled again. "I guess… it's just that everything is falling apart and I don't know if I can hold it together anymore. Erica told me to never give up, to never stop loving no matter how bad things get or how much people hurt me. It's hard not to anymore, cause all it seems is that people wanna hurt me for just being who I am… like it's not right for me to be who I am, who she told me to be. 'Stay true to your heart, Angel baby,' she always said. Now I'm being punished for it." Julia felt like that was a huge jab at her, but didn't say anything about it. Angel needed to realize just how important he was to everyone who loved him, and maybe Julia was the only one who could convince him.

"Angel, you're the only one who can know something. Whether it's right or not," Julia tried. "Not Erica. Not Collins. Not any body... Collins fell in love with you, not Erica. And he knows you better than anybody. And you love him… doesn't having that love tell you just how special you are? How much you're loved?"

"It's not that simple," Angel replied. "How can I keep living like there's still hope, that there's still good… when everything that's happened just hurts me and everyone more and more? How can I? That's living a lie…"

"It's not a lie if you feel it; if you know it," Julia countered. "You still feel the good; the love, right? You still know it? You still see it?"

He nodded. "I do. I just don't know if it's real anymore. Or if it's me blind to what's really going on, I don't know. But I do feel it."

"Then that's it. You know it. _You_ feel it. That means it's all you…"

Angel relaxed against the pillows and thought about that. Maybe she was right – that the feelings he still knew was in him; in his blood… that means it had to be him, right? The love he felt for Collins, that they shared, was as strong as ever, though it took a while for them both to see it. That was worth holding onto.

"I still feel it, girl," Angel finally said, this time with a bit more confidence. A bit more belief. "Yeah… I know it." Julia didn't return the smile, and Angel knew why…

"I don't hate you, Julia…"

"You know why I did it?" she snapped, with evident self-disgust.

"Baby, I know why you did it…

"So you should hate me, Angel. I hate me!" she stood up. "I don't get it… if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be…." She stopped herself. "I can't say it… don't make me say it."

Angel raised an eyebrow at her, slightly amused. "I didn't make you say anything. You're doing this to yourself, not me. You have no idea what I've done in my life, all the shitty things, and the druggies I hung out with… I'm a fucking street drumming drag queen with AIDS, you can only guess what shit I've gotten up to. Hating you would only take away the time I have to love my friends, and that's time I can't afford to waste anymore…"

Julia paced up and down next to his bed, frustrated at just how much she was putting herself through, and though it was apparent that both Collins and Angel forgave her, it was still not nearly enough as to what she felt she deserved. And Angel's response to her only worsened it for her, not eased it.

"Why, Angel? Ever since it happened I've totally freaked about the thought of having to face you _and_ Tom, and you both act like… like… I don't even know what you're acting like."

"Trust me, I'm just as surprised. But… I almost lost Collins and my friends… I got another chance with him that I never had with Nicholas; the Collins never had with Sam…"

"What happened with you and Nicholas?"

Angel adjusted his blankets and pouted his lips. "He died. Four years ago. Just after I turned eighteen."

"AIDS?"

"He was shot. Gang thing."

"Oh."

He smirked. "Not every bohemian andgay personwalking the street has AIDS you know…"

Julia scoffed. It sure seemed like it. In this small group she knew, four of them had AIDS or HIV… Collins, Angel, Mimi, and Roger. And Angel's best friend, Erica, died from complications from the disease. It was the early nineties. It was like every second or third person living in the East Village was HIV positive or whatever, and certainly from a preppy perspective like Julia's, it seemed like the disease was lurking everywhere.

"I know," she replied defensively. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah I do. And why the hell you'd go to Sam and Julian for drugs… of _all_ people, when there are plenty of dealers walking the street—"

"I know." Here it came. Julia didn't dare say how it was them who came to her in her most vulnerable of times. "Angel, I know. And I'll never forgive myself, I'm so—"

"Sorry, I know," Angel cut her off. "I forgive you. I think you've done enough hating of yourself for us all. I still think you got a way to go before _you_ forgive yourself… you're the one who has to live with you." Angel didn't have to yell or scream or cry for him to get someone to know he was angry, and believe me, Julia knew it. She could hear and see it. But she also could see a lot of conflict. And a lot of hope. "Erica told me, she promised me that it would all be okay… and it will be. Okay? For both of us."

"Collins wants me to turn myself in."

"Honey, it's either you or me…" Angel quipped. Both paused… and then laughed.

**WITH MARK – 1:00PM**

Signing the visitor's log, Mark's heart pounded in his chest at meeting with Sam. He didn't even know why he agreed to meet him in the first place; he must have been in a spontaneous mood when he agreed to the visit. Hearing Sam's soft, defeated voice through the phone receiver, it sparked curiosity in Mark to see what was up – the drug pusher told him that he had something he needed to say, and that it could only be done face to face. No one else knew of the phone call, and Mark decided not to tell them for they'd say nothing but for him to not go. It wasn't that he wanted to go, but he was curious to know how the son of a bitch, who almost destroyed Collins' and Angel's lives, was coping in an environment in which he was not in control. It had taken an hour for him to arrive at the prison, and needless to say, it was a very intimidating place to a budding young filmmaker, and of course Mark was told he had to leave his camera at home.

So here he was. A semi-cynical, young bohemian willingly walking into a very cold, hard, unforgiving place that would so quickly eat him up if he let his guard down. The walls, the ceiling, the floor… everything was grey and dull and just boring. How on earth anyone could live like this, in such confinement. For any artist, like Mark, it would be so stifling and dull that the only way out would be suicide. Mark couldn't help but think of such chilling thoughts in a place that was obviously not just meant to confine and house criminals, but act as a deterrent itself to anyone thinking about committing a crime. So for our bohemians, who valued their freedom and being different, such a place was horrible to imagine… no freedom and simple conformity.

Mark clipped the visitors badge to his shirt and walked over to stand where the other inmates' visitors were standing, though he chose to stand near the back, against the wall. He looked around at the families standing around him and then moved further back. Whatever Sam wanted, he'd have to get it out quick because Mark was not intending to stay for too long at all. Then, one of the steel doors opened and a man in a dark blue suit and black tie briskly walked out, with a clipboard in his hand looking bored out of his mind, and came to a stop just in front of the group.

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen," he spoke up and everyone immediately quieted down and turned their attention to the man, who seemed to be a supervisor or something to that effect.

"If you will kindly follow me; please remove all jewelry and metallic objects, as well as any bags and or extra possession – please present them for inspection through security and step through the metal detectors and stand to the side once cleared. Thank you." The man then stepped aside as the visitors began to line up through security, a slow enough process. Mark lined up near the back of the line and patiently waited his turn, still thinking of all the possible reasons as to why Sam specifically asked for him to come down, instead of Collins… this had to be good. But from the way he sounded on the phone, he sounded weak… defeated. Depressed. Of course, there's no wonder considering he was facing a life sentence. Too bad New York State did not have the death penalty, as Mark would've loved to be there to see the needle being shoved into their veins. How ironic for drug dealers. But alas the anti-death penalty lobbyists have gotten their way and so they would just have to settle for Sam and Julian rotting away in a controlled place for their rest of their lives.

When it came to his turn, Mark held out his arms as a security officer passed him over with a hand-held metal detecting scanner. Mark rolled his eyes and looked over to see his bag being passed through the other scanner, checking for any objects that could be seen as a danger to the inmates, the officers, or anyone else.

"Okay, sir, please step over there," the guard gestured for Mark to collect his belongings and step aside, giving him the all clear to go through. All this trouble and Mark shouldn't even be here… if any of his friends found out he was here, they'd go nuts. A few minutes later, after the last visitors passed the inspection, three guards moved around them and the same man who had given the initial instructions once again appeared at the front of the group of around twenty people.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. Please follow me, and please wait before inmates are seated before moving into the visitor's hall." He then turned and started down a long corridor, and the visitors started following closely behind, with Mark tailing at the back of the group. Every step forward convinced him further that he shouldn't be here, and that he should just turn and go home. What could be so important that Sam wanted to speak to him in person? As weak as he sounded on the phone, Sam was often deceptive and manipulative so there was a need to obviously be cautious. To Mark, Samuel Michaels was nothing more than a drug dealer and gun runner who would do anything to get his way, or do anything to extract revenge on those who dare cross his path and ruin everything he created.

Walking into the large hall, inmates in their orange jumpsuits were just being seated and shackled to the seats, out of reach from where their visitors would be, for security reasons.

"Sir?" an officer approached him, holding a clipboard. "Your name and who you are here to see?"

"Oh, uh… I'm Mark Cohen, here for Sam Michaels."

"Samuel Michaels?"

"Uh, yeah…"

The officer checked his clipboard and checked a box, then looked back up at the man standing in front of him.

"Certainly, follow me please."

The officer led Mark around tables, and soon after about thirty seconds, a familiar person sitting at a distant table. Sam was sitting there, starting at the table, looking not too good… the immediate impression Mark got was Sam was nervous. Even scared. Like he had seen a ghost… or two. He looked up in time to see the officer bring Mark Cohen over to the table, and he started shaking.

"You have an hour," the officer stated and then left just as Mark sat down, leaving them alone. He placed his bag at his side, and stared at the man in front of him. Sam looked so pathetic now, he wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. After all the damage this man caused, to laugh now wasn't necessarily inappropriate as it was too difficult. Sam had destroyed so many lives, and almost destroyed two of Mark's best friends'… it was ironic how things turned out. Sam's love for Collins; his inability to control his love… was the basic reason as to why he was sitting in the orange jumpsuit now. No doubt Angel and Collins would have to go through an emotional trial once Sam and Julian were put on trial for attempted murder. Things weren't ending, but beginning and you'd have to be a fool not to see that. But maybe, finally, the struggle could end. The struggle for Angel to believe his own worth again, the struggle for Collins to move past the guilt; the struggle for the family of friends return to a state of normalcy; the struggle for Sam to come into acceptance of the fact that no longer Collins held love for him in the same way he did. Sam was Collins' first love, and so there would always be a tiny piece of that love that would forever remain in them both. But it wasn't the same anymore. Mark suddenly felt a rush of pity, even sympathy, for the now pathetically weak person sitting in front of him. He took a deep breath.

"What do you what, Sam?"

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ I'm so sorry for taking so long for this chapter to come up, but I've had things to deal with. Okay, so the next chapter will follow on from this meeting between Mark and Sam. Angel and Collins talk. Father David Molina, Angel's childhood priest, comes to visit with his mother (I.E. more of Angel's past, as I see it being or should've been). Rock on, fellow readers!**

**NOTE: Next chapter may be the last or second last chapter. It's all coming to an end. If enough people want it, I will consider a sequel and I'm open for ideas. Maybe something lighter and more humor.**


	32. Chapter 32

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 32**

**_SUMMARY:_ In this next to last chapter, we focus on Mark and Sam, as well as another lovely Angel/Collins moment. I was gonna bring in more of Angel's past, but I decided that if I did the story would become too flooded with it. So, onwards and upwards fellow readers as we enter the home stretch of this saga…**

* * *

Sam fidgeted in the spot he was sitting in and starting trembling. Everything about this place he could handle, but it didn't mean he was any less afraid of what was gonna happen to him. He valued his freedom so much that the thought of being cooped up in jail for the next thirty or so years was a more terrifying prospect than death itself, and yes the thought of suicide did cross his mind on more than one occasion. There wasn't anything that was keeping him alive anymore, and Collins walked out of his life for his second chance with his lover, Angel – so there was no love worth living for, to Sam. Ever since their arrest, Julian refused to talk to him and Sam was suspecting that he may be cooperating with authorities against him, which wouldn't surprise him as Julian always said that friendship was important, but in the end it simply came down to every man for himself. Now don't go getting the wrong idea, Sam is perfectly capable and willing to handle him self in jail against the other inmates who were bigger and more dangerous than he was, but what he feared more than anything now… was that he truly was nothing. No one had any business with him anymore; he was used and tossed aside… no reason to live. Having Mark's accusing eyes boring deeps holes into him, digging away any remaining part of his humanity… another added stress that Sam was prepared to face, but could see no chance of prevailing or seeing the end of it. Sam's life was revolved around him being the boss and in control; having what people need and having them literally crawl for it. The degradation; the humiliation that many suffered at his hands was unconcern to him, as long as he had his power – I know that sounds cold and heartless, but really that's the life he fell into. The only way he's known how to socialize. A typical sociopath, right? Well again, that's not true, because he does actually feel. Narcissism may be the appropriate word.

"Sam?" Mark spoke, firmly. "What is it?"

Sam was uncomfortable, and it was visible on his face, but it wasn't as if Mark really gave a fuck. Curiosity brought him here, but it would not keep him here. His patience was on a timer and it wouldn't be long before he stood up and walked out… he didn't have time for Sam's games anymore, none of them did. He had done extremely well in fucking them all up, and now he sat here, looking helpless and pathetic… a bittersweet satisfaction was what kept Mark sitting there, still holding back a smile at seeing him in this state.

"I…" the former teacher stuttered and looked around the visitor's hall, at all the other visitors and families visiting inmates, talking intimately. They all seemed happy to see each other, but this meeting was so cold it was almost icy… he shivered.

"Thanks for coming," he muttered, having thought of nothing else to say. God, he even sounded pathetic and fucked up to himself and he hated so much. Especially since he didn't even have the nerve to look _Mark Cohen_ in the eyes, of all people!

"Whatever," Mark replied and sat forward enough to put his arms on the table and lean forward. "I don't know why I came. Curious I guess."

"Curious?"

"Okay, you got me. I just wanted to come see how your weak ass was holding up here. Made any knew… _friends_ yet?" Mark couldn't help but tease sadistically, knowing full well the consequences of what would follow should he accidentally let it slip here that Sam is gay. That would be so cruel, though probably not undeserved for Sam… give to him what he did to Angel, with the raping and beatings… should Mark do it? Be so vindictive as to do so, and show just how much damage Sam had inflicted on them all. _No_, his mind said. _Don't give him any bit of satisfaction. Leave him to rot…_

"Cute," Sam mumbled, keeping his hatred for Mark and those other friends of Collins, secret. "Real nice."

"I'm not here to be _nice_," Mark told him. "You got something to say… I'm only here 'cause I'm curious is all. Now you can either say what you gotta say or I'm gone. I got better things to do."

"Like what?" Sam scoffed. "Hiding in that crappy loft, creating little films that no one in their right mind would watch? Not exactly 'better things'"

"Fine," Mark proceeded to stand up.

"Wait!" Sam protested, desperately, and Mark stopped. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? Just sit."

Mark reluctantly sat back down. "What?"

"Mark, I don't wanna fight…" Sam relented, sadly. "We need to talk."

"You betrayed Collins, tried to turn him against us, took advantage of him when he was down, broke him and Angel up, almost KILLED Angel TWICE, and now you wanna… _talk_?"

"I know I fucked up, man, you don't gotta tell me…"

"After the hell you put my friends through, you deserve nothing less than to be slowly butchered and fed to the rats in the sewers. But I doubt even they would take a liking to your taste," Mark growled, with more strength and hatred than he had ever felt before. How he could show restraint with this sick, psychotic son of a bitch is nothing short of amazing, and he knew that life imprisonment could barely cover the pain he had caused his friends. Angel would carry the physical and emotional scars with him for the rest of his life, however short or long that may be. "If Angel died, I swear to God I'd have killed you myself."

"Oh come on, Mark!" Sam cried, exasperated. "You and I both know that's a fucking crock! You wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Yeah well, I'd say you're lower on the chain than a fly right now. Now quit stalling and tell me what the fuck you want."

They stared at each other, seeing who would blink first and back down, but both held their ground. This wasn't a time to be playing games, and now they had to lay all their cards on the table, so to speak. Sam sighed, wistfully. "Mark, this doesn't gotta be hard…"

"You brought it all on yourself, man. Now tell me what it is you want, or I'm walking out that door."

"Okay, okay!" Sam held up his hands in a defensive way. "Fine… look, there's something I gotta give you… to give to Collins…"

"No way. You gotta be insane, Sam, to think I'd let you get anywhere near him now! You've fucking destroyed his life enough, aren't you satisfied YET!"

"Will you let me finish?" Sam snapped, impatiently. "Look… I know I did some shitty things, okay? I'm an evil person who deserves to rot in hell for eternity, but what about Collins, huh? I know how guilty he feels… don't you wanna help him alleviate some of that?" Sam was an expert at creating, like Angel does, cryptic messages and clues to pull in Mark's interest further.

"What?"

Sam picked up several envelopes that were on the seat next to him and put them in the centre of the table, still keeping them in his hands. In the pile, there also seemed to be a variety of photos, though Mark couldn't see what they were of as Sam's hands blocked his view of them. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what exactly this screwed up junkie was up to, but he knew that Sam had nothing to lose anymore and his defeated attitude did keep Mark's interest held long enough. The two men sat across from each other, one offering things that he had kept so close to his heart for so long, and the other not sure if he was willing to accept this. Whatever these things were, they would only do nothing except cause Collins and Angel further pain, and he certainly wouldn't give these things to Collins without knowing exactly what was going on.

"What's this?"

Sam shrugged and stared at the papers, blankly. "The past. Everything. He'll know."

Mark then reached forward and took the edge of one of the envelopes, still in Sam's hands, and lightly tugged on it.

"Let me—"

"No," Sam insisted. "For his eyes only."

"You gotta be crazy if you think I'm gonna give these to him without knowing what they are. He's been through enough."

"Yeah he has," Sam agreed, rubbing his left brow. "That's why he has to get them. He doesn't have to read them. Look at them. He'll know what they are. He just has to burn them. _He's_ the one who has to…"

Mark gazed at the letters, envelopes, and photos, as Sam dropped them onto the table. He suddenly realized the significance of Samuel's request.

"Love letters?"'

"Something like," Sam confirmed. "Postcards. Photos of us. Letters. Collins was always the romantic…I never realized how so, or how much I was too, until he sent me these," he smiled when he remembered receiving these letters and reading for the first time. Idly he toyed with a photo of him and Collins at Christmas in 1986 – Collins was sitting on the sofa, holding Sam in his arms, both smiling and apparently carefree. Sam turned the photo around for Mark to see, and it did catch the blonde filmmaker off-guard by how in love they appeared to be. Seeing Collins with Angel now, it wasn't surprising to him of how romantic and loving the professor was with his lover, but to think that he was once like that with _Sam_? It suddenly put a lot into perspective, and Mark was hit with the new understanding of Sam and what he was going through… he had lost the love of his life and fell into a world where he was unloved, after experiencing something that was so obviously intense and passionate. It must have been a shock. And in that very instant, Mark's attitude changed…relaxed. Sam didn't have many redeeming qualities, but this was certainly something that could qualify as one.

"Wow," he muttered. This was something he wasn't expecting at all, and once again the situation just got more complicated. "Wh… what—"

"Mark, as much as an asshole as you think I am, I'm not entirely a cold, heartless drug dealer out seeking bloody revenge," Sam told him, wearily. Was this an attempt for him to get some sympathy? "I never wanted it to get this bad…"

"No, you wanted Angel dead!"

"It's not like I planned it! I saw him there in the park and I was just overcome with emotion or whatever… and that second time, with Julian… look, hate me all you want. Just do this, okay? Not for me, for Collins. He can burn them and _maybe_ he won't kill himself with guilt anymore…"

"And you're doing this out of the kindness of your heart?" Mark sarcastically remarked, looking through the other photos of Sam and Collins in their happier, more in-love days.

"No," Sam coldly replied, his eyes darkening. "Because I know when it's time to quit. You want me to say I've changed? That I don't hate Angel? No… I doubt even you is that dumb. I just… I want what you want. What you all want."

"And what's that?"

Sam then leaned back and inhaled deeply, drawing strength from any purity he could find in the cold air.

"I want it to be over. I'm pretty sure Julian, the fucker, has sold me out. I know when it's over, Mark. I still love Collins, and I know I pretty much screwed up his life which is something I never wanted to do… I just wanted him to know how much I still love him. How much he hurt me. How much I wanted things to go back to the way they were."

Mark turned his attention to the four envelopes on the table and picked one up, and turned it around.

"May I?"

Sam shrugged again. "Can I stop you?"

Taking that as a yes, Mark opened the envelope and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. Unfolding it, he initially let his eyes skim over the contents. It was addressed _to_ Sam, from Collins, dated July 30th, 1986. The handwriting was definitely Collins' and it was in relatively good condition, like Sam saved it and took care of it… even cherished it.

_**My Sammy…**_

_**I know we haven't had a chance to be together lately, with both our work commitments keeping us apart, and I'm sorry. I promise it will get better soon, baby, you can be sure of that – as sure of it as you are sure that I will soon return to you and hold you in my arms once more. I miss your scent, your laugh… your eyes. Sweetheart, don't despair because you and I will be together again. Keep your heart safe and assured that these words of mine are true to you, and my love for you will never die…**_

_If only he knew, _Mark thought, thinking of the ironic ending to their relationship. He continued to read.

**_This work will be over soon and we'll be together again, and there is nothing I wouldn't give to feel your soft, silky skin against mine and to feel the sweet touch of your lips. I love you. Keep that with you always. _**

I love you,

_**Tom**_

Mark knew how romantic and poetic Collins could be when swept up in waves of love – more so with Angel and now he was surprised to realize just how in love Sam and he were. Years ago, Mark and Roger were trying so hard to break them up for Collins' sake, and never once did they stop to realize the depth of the love the two young men shared. Maybe if they had, things would've turned out differently.

"That's amazing," he whispered. Sam nodded… what people didn't understand about him was that he was an enormously complex individual who, like others, was human and had human needs and desires. If he could convince Mark of that, then at least something could come out of this whole tragedy that resembled more like a Shakespearean tragedy than anything else.

"I am sorry, Mark," he said, genuinely. "It's not like I planned this. I don't expect or even want you all to forgive me, but I do want you to know the truth… how it is for me. Whatever you think of me, just give him these… instruct him to burn them right away. Maybe it'll help him let go. I want him to be happy."

"That's not what you said last week!"

"Last week? Mark, do you know how much shit I'm on? How my veins are dried up because of the crap I injected? Trust me; it does cause some serious emotional instability."

"So you blame this on the drugs?"

"No. Will you do this?" Sam pressed, as he didn't want to start a fight.

Mark hesitated and looked back and forth between Sam and the papers that held his and Collins' history… the love… the last thread of what they shared existed in words and in images, that once burned would never be able to be recovered. Hopefully, that would mean the memories… or the bad ones at least, would burn away with them. Mark nodded.

"Yeah. I'll give them to him."

Sam smiled. "Thanks."

"Sure…"

**WITH ANGEL AND COLLINS – 2 HOURS LATER**

Julia had left almost thirty minutes earlier, without another word to Collins or Angel… she had some serious thinking to do and understandably had a few things to work out before she decided her next move. Having Angel's and Collins' forgiveness wasn't enough for her to be rid of the pain she was experiencing, and so to had to leave and be on her own for a while. Now, Collins was with his lover again.

He sat on the bed, where Julia had been sitting just minutes before, holding Angel's hand as they quietly talked and enjoyed each other's company. For the first time in almost four months, they could actually see each other and feel each other again – they were one again. A renewed strength energized them both to want to take on the world again, and only the purest love could wield that kind of power and still remain strong as time would try to destroy it.

Angel giggled as he placed kisses on Collins' fingers, just like Collins did with him, and his lover smiled at the pleasure they were both getting from it. Angel then seductively let his tongue wander over the tips of Collins' middle finger, enjoying every bit of seductive power he had, even in the almost incapacitated state he was in. To have this peace and quality time alone together was times to be cherished, irregardless of the circumstances they were in… Collins was just thankful to be able to get lost in Angel's deep chocolate brown eyes and kiss those soft pink lips, and feel the warmth and glow of Angel's skin caressing his own. That's what it was about now, and they had gone through a lot to learn that, and now they have… who cares about punishing those responsible for it now? Who cares? Whatever happened to Sam and Julian, it didn't concern either of them anymore, because Angel and Collins both knew how close they came to losing each other forever. A choice between revenge and love? Love would always win with these two… they had each lost first loves, never getting that second chance most could only dream to have.

"Having fun there?" Collins teased. Angel nodded and poked his tongue out at him.

"Can't wait to get home," Angel said, whining. "Or rather, I can't wait for what we can do when we get home," he winked and Collins laughed.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!"

"Want me to take advantage of you?" Collins leaned down and teasingly gave Angel a peck at the side of his mouth, and Angel squirmed as a result.

"Yeah, honey. I want you to take advantage of me… take me home and ravage me. I'll be your slave…" they kissed again, and the hospital surroundings just melted away.

"My slave?"

"Well," Angel breathed in between kisses. "I got the whole sex kitten thing down pretty good; you know… your wish is my command! Meow!" he made a passionate, seductive purring sound that fired up his lover even more.

"Really? Okay," Collins replied, then placing a series of kisses along Angel's well defined jaw line.

"My first and only wish right now," he moved up so that his lips were just centimeters from Angel's, and kissed his nose. "Is for you, my Angel… my love… to get better. And I'll be right there with you when you do…"

Angel's heart fluttered and could literally feel his face burning red. Out of all the guys he ever dated, only Collins was the one who could keep making him blush and feel the rush of life being lived for the moment over and over again. _He is the reason you still believe…_ his conscience told him with an edge of certainty. _He is the reason you still love… he is the reason you haven't given up… he is the reason you're still alive…_

"I love you," Angel whispered, breaking off the kisses momentarily for a brief serious moment. Collins moved closed to him, so their lips' were just grazing each other. But the seriousness he could see in Angel could not be disregarded. "Collins, you're everything… my everything… we're gonna be okay. Right?"

Collins stroked Angel just behind his ear. "After everything we just went through, sweetheart? Nothing can tear us apart. Nothing."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Angel smiled his most innocent, yet charming and mixed with a touch of sexual energy and excited ness. Only he could pull off such an irresistible smile that caught Collins' breath every time. The passion and raw sexual chemistry they had, had to be suppressed in favour of Angel's recovery, but from the hungry desire in their eyes it was hard not to see how much they wanted each other. Angel had the need to feel Collins' skin pressed firmly against his own; their legs wrapped around each other so much that it would be so hard to untie themselves from each other; to feel the sweat and the heavy breathing of the passion of lovemaking, yet at other times just be so deep into the tenderness and softness of each caress; and the penetrating love into each other's souls, so deep that no one could ever have the strength to tear them apart, for they had been through to the depths of hell both separately and together, and their experiences had been so terrible, and at the complete other end so beautiful, that neither could imagine living life without the other. Nothing was complicated when they were together, and it was so evident each time they were alone together. Would they be able to recapture what they once had? Probably… some may say that they never actually lost each other, but that, I think we can all agree, is just romantic, gullible bullshit… they had lost a lot, and paid a heavy price for wanting to be together and on more than one occasion they were forced to reevaluate just how strong their desire and need for each other was. Those cold winter nights where they would just curl up in each others arms in bed, kissing and cuddling; talking and laughing… a time for quiet passion and subtle romance, with softness and tenderness. During the summer, they would go to the roof and lie on a blanket, staring at the stars and sharing more about their lives and things that happened when they were kids, and just living the moment with a sense of lazy compliance and the soft passion would turn into an ignition of heat – passion and fire neither had felt from any past lover, all their past experiences (good and bad) cumulated to take their love to new heights, unsurpassable. Nothing rough. Just intensity and desire overwhelming their senses to the point where it was hard for them to not want each other. The kind of thing that most of us _straight_ people have trouble finding, and maybe it was time we took a lesson from couples such as Angel and Collins, right? Those who had an appreciation and the ability to see beauty and truth in anything and anyone who they deemed worthy. A lesson we could all use every now and then, am I right?

"I love you, baby," Collins returned the ever repeated, clichéd verbalized proclamations of love, the most adored feeling to experience. "We got through this past week… there's nothing else anyone can throw at us that can tear us apart now."

Angel giggled again, and with his hand around the back of Collins' neck, he pulled his love closer to him, and despite the weakness from the meds, he furiously and very passionately locked lips with Collins, wanting to breathe, taste, and smell every bit of him. _Curse these feeble hospitals,_ his mind taunted cruelly.

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?"

"Uh-huh…"

"You trying to kill me?"

"Aww, getting too much for you?"

Angel pouted, "No fair… you know I can't pin you down and punish you!"

Collins smiled mischievously and playfully kissed just under Angel's ear and knew to take cautious advantage of them being alone together. Angel had forgotten his insecurities and the horrors he had recently suffered, looking playful and very desirable… the sparkle in his eyes had returned for the first time, and Collins could see the old Angel coming back to him. The first sign that told him that maybe they really could get through this together, and the words he said to comfort the fallen angel were not just meaningless and transparent. Seeing the hope in Angel now, combined with a dark innocence that had captivated him from the time he laid eyes on the street drummer drag queen… Collins connected with that hope. That was the kind of power Angel wielded, even when he doubted and in a vulnerable position as he was, people were still drawn to him… comforted by his mere presence. Collins always wondered how he did it, though didn't have to wonder what it was about his lover that captivated so many people… his spirit was evident in everything he said and did, good or bad.

"My Angel," Collins whispered, lovingly. "Even if you were healthy, you still couldn't pin me down anyway!" that comment was met with Angel sticking his tongue out and sulking, light heartedly.

"Smart ass."

"Whatever."

"Shut up."

"You know you love me!"

"Shut up!"

"Admit it!" Collins winked and grinned, knowing full well that Angel needed this. He needed to have some familiarity brought back into his life, and this light bantering was doing that well.

"Never!" Angel declared, defiantly, and smiled back in a way that was a little more than suggestive of what his intentions were. His voice quieted to barely a whisper. "Make me," he dared.

"Oooh, you sure?" Collins challenged back. "Once I take you under my power, it's over baby you know it…"

"Getting a little cocky, I see…"

"Just well defined self assurance you have. You've rubbed off on me, Miss Schunard."

"Oh I can rub you in more ways than that," Angel played with a sort of innocence and subtle seductiveness that Collins saw right through. "You know what I mean…"

"Yeah I do. And only after you get better will I let you do whatever you want to me."

"Something to look forward to?"

"Oh yeah."

Angel giggled and squirmed again, loving all this attention but wasn't blind to what Collins was trying to do – distract him and bring a bit of light back into his life. And you know what? It was working _really_ well.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to be a good girl for you, professor…"

"Yes you will…" Collins replied. "Good girls get the rewards…"

"What if I'm _baaaad_?" Angel continued.

"If you're bad? Well, let's just say I'll have to punish you."

"Ahh I see. Well Professor Collins, you've certainly given a lot for me to think about it."

Collins leaned in. "Think about it hard, baby. Only after you're well again."

"Aww!" Angel groaned. "No fair."

Collins shrugged and chuckled. "Sorry Ang, not much we can do here I'm afraid."

Angel then stuck out his tongue, the tip of it touching Collins' lips, and he pretended to bite at it playfully.

"I guess we can wait… dare I say it might be worth it in the end."

"After what you and I have been through? I say you may be right…"

They started another round of passionate kisses, the conversation stopped right there and then as they became enveloped in each other's warmth and a small, deep moan escaped the back of Collins' throat as Angel deepened the kiss further. When Angel's throat was cut, luckily Julian hadn't the time to do it right and it was a very light cut, but it still hurt understandably, to an extent. But Angel could think of nothing but tasting Collins further, being consumed with every part of him. Oh boy, if only he was healthier and he and his lover were back at their apartment… they probably won't be leaving their bed for days.

Meanwhile, through the slightly open door, a person was standing there looking in at the lovebirds while they recaptured the time lost over the past four months, deliberating with him self what he was supposed to do. He didn't want to interrupt them and force this new thing on them, and it was like his feet was glued to the one spot where he was standing. Mark had just arrived, coming off from his visit with Sam at the prison, and in his hand he was holding the photos and letters that Sam wanted Collins to burn, thinking it would be the only way to let go. But from the looks of it, he had already let go… Collins was enamored with Angel and nothing seemed to be getting him down at the moment. Mark sighed. His friends were looking better every time he saw them as time became more forgiving of them all. He turned around and started walking away, towards the elevator, figuring that it wasn't the time nor the place… it wasn't even necessary. He owed Sam nothing, and he wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over breaking his agreement to give the letters to Collins. Angel and Collins needed more time alone.

Twenty minutes later, walking through one of the many back streets on his way back to the loft, Mark took his time and sank back into his thoughts. Seeing the way Collins and Angel were gazing at each other was somewhat of a refreshing sight, and it was a good feeling to know that love that deep still existed in this otherwise hostile world – maybe there was hope for him too.

He was walking through the back street when he came across a barrel which was on fire. It wasn't an uncommon, as many of the homeless often lit small fires in the backstreets for light and warmth at night, and this one was apparently abandoned as no one else was around. Mark approached it and sighed. It doesn't take a genius for you to figure out what he was thinking and what he was probably gonna do. Playing with the possessions in his hands, Mark shook his head sadly, wondering why it all had to come down to this… Angel almost died twice. Collins was shattered into a million pieces. Once again this family of friends were almost torn apart, and for what? There were no winners in all this, nor losers. Happiness wasn't a by-product of how things turned out, just content at the most.

Mark pursed his lips as the images of the events over not just the past week, but the past four months, played in his head.

"It's over…" he muttered. "Fucking over…"

He dropped the items into the fire and watched them burn away into nothing as the last physical remnants of Collins relationship with Sam became nothing more than a distant memory. And from the looks of things when he saw Angel and Collins together only twenty minutes earlier, that's exactly what it, was beginning to be for them.

Mark stood next to the barrel until every last remaining bit of the photos and letters had burned away, before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning around, walking away. Things could only get better from now on, right?

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ Next, the deaths! Be sure to read it all before you decide whether or not to condemn me for it (you probably will!) but it had to be done, I'm sorry. Next chapter… I won't reveal the contents of the next chapter you'll just have to wait!**

**  
NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST CHAPTER! I know, I know! It's sad, but all good things must come to an end, it's time. A wonderful journey it has been, and a sequel is in the works. Thanks so much for sticking with reading the story for so long.**


	33. Chapter 33

**DESTROYED**

**Chapter 33 – FINAL CHAPTER**

**_SUMMARY:_ Well, well, well… here we are at the final chapter. Seems like so long ago, doesn't it? sigh. Well, no time for reminiscing because it's time to hit the final chapter. Yes, there will be two deaths in this chapter; a double whammy, so to speak. Tying up loose ends is the purpose now. No hints here, you just gotta read. Okay, one hint. It involves Collins angst. Trust me, I'm really gonna screw with you all this chapter. Lol. Muahaha! I am evil! I wanna go out with a BANG! Woohoo!**

**Note: I brought in 'I'll Cover You' for this chapter, too. I thought it would be appropriate. And as a disclaimer, 'I'll Cover You' was created by Mr. Jonathan Larson (God rest his soul), and passed on to his estate upon his death.**

**Warning – sex scenes are in this chapter, nothing graphic, but obvious implications may be uncomfortable for some readers. You have been warned. Now, READ ON! Woot! Woot!**

* * *

_**7 MONTHS LATER**_

****

It had been three hours since everyone left, and still he couldn't move… he couldn't bring himself to put one step forward, or one step back, because either way he knew it was over. After everything they had gone through together, it had to end now in the very way both thought it was gonna end from the start. Everything, for the past seven months, had been absolutely amazing as life suddenly started meaning something to them both and now this happened, which, lets be honest, was bound to happen sooner or later anyway. The graying skies reflected the darkness of the day's events, as did the state of his heart and knowing that never again would he feel his lover's embrace… those sweet, tender kisses… the passionate lovemaking…. The warmth of their love would never again be resonated back to him and never again would they have the connection when their eyes met.

Standing on the damp ground, letting the rain droplets fall around him; fall on him… on the coat he had been bought by his lover. Collins was stone faced, staring at the casket with not so much as another blink; not one movement. His life had died with Angel, through the torments of the disease that ravaged both of them, though the young drag queen, a real angel on earth, was called back Home. These past seven months had been so magical as they rekindled their lost love and made up for the four months they spent apart – those four months when both of them thought they were lost without the other and now it was permanent. Collins would never again see the smile on his lover's face, the smile that would light up his whole day and make life so much easier to deal with. Now, seven months of intense rehabilitation for Angel brought them that much more together, inseparable… Mark had told him about the letters and photos, and told everyone of his little visit to see Sam about three months after he burned said possessions, and yes they were pissed. But Collins was grateful. For some reason, he wouldn't have been able to deal with burning his past with Sam… it would've been too difficult, despite what Sam had become. Angel's broken spirit was gradually healed, and in the last two months of his life… everything was perfect again. The torturous year was behind them, and every second of every minute of every day was a blessed one… never had so much love been known, the purity of it unmatched in every way. The family of friends were closer than ever, and Angel's death was not a sudden thing… they had seen it coming for the past two weeks, including Collins and Angel. They knew their time was limited. Angel had told him…

"_Baby, it's okay…" Angel said between coughs, lying in Collins' arms he reached up and brushed the tears from his lover's face with the back of his hand. There was little he could do to calm the professor, even as the life was draining from his dying body, Angel still had the glow of life that could calm even the saddest of people. Collins held Angel closer, wrapping his arms around Angel's slender waist and kissed his forehead, the sobs aching his body. The tears were now so painful._

"_Tom… sweetie?" Angel sat up and turned just enough so he could stare into Collins' darkened eyes. Angel stroked his face, letting his fingers glide over his lover's eyes, down his nose, and across his lips… those soft lips. Angel kissed them again, savoring every second so he could take that taste of Collins to the next life, where he would always wait. Collins returned the kiss, and deepened it. He then gently turned so he could lay Angel down properly on the bed, not breaking off the kiss, their tongues exploring every part of their mouths; and the passion heated up._

_Angel put his arms around Collins' body, his finger tips digging lightly into his lover's back, arching his own so that he was in perfect alignment with Collins. Feeling the weight of the man he loved pushing down on him, Angel then slid one of his hand up Collins' back and placed it at the back of his neck, while Collins continued to lovingly subdue him in return. Angel was determined to really live until the end, and that included lovemaking and giving Collins every bit of strength he could muster so that their physical relationship would end on such a high note, that there was no possible way they could be separated by death, like their souls were being tied together, joining together in unity forever. Therefore, when it would be time for Collins to cross as well, Angel would be waiting for him… forever would he wait. The drag queen then wrapped his leg around Collins', wanting to be as close to him as possible, and the man responded by pushing him self further onto Angel; they were both swept up in the throws of passion and desire so intense that they could go on forever._

"_Collins," Angel breathed heavily, breaking the kiss suddenly, but that didn't deter Collins, who proceeded to plant kisses all over Angel's face, moving to his ear. He then started gently nibbling on it, sending sparks down Angel's spine, whose eyes widened and he let out a sharp moan of desire and pleasure. Collins was the most intense and beautiful lover he ever had and it showed when they displayed their love for each other in such intimate times as this. This was ever more special as it would be one of the last times they would be able to do this, for as the disease began to take a strangle hold on Angel's life, so too would it diminish his abilities to physically show Collins his love. Collins was intensifying this time with each kiss becoming more sensual, as he knew just the right places that would really push Angel's buttons._

"_Baby… you okay?" Angel tried desperately to get Collins to focus for one second. Collins stopped what he was doing and looked up._

"_Hmm?"_

_  
Angel smiled down at him, Collins seeing his eyes sparkle in the light provided only by a small lamp at the side of the bed. He smiled back and Angel cupped his face in his hands, gently keeping Collins' head just next to his and their noses touched. "I love you, sweetie, so much," Angel told him. "We gotta talk about this…"_

"_Angel, there's nothing more to talk about," Collins replied sadly. "I know. I know. I'm okay. I just wanna make every second count for you, that's all…"_

"_The lovemaking is beautiful, darling, but… can we just lay in each other's arms for a while? I just wanna breathe the moment…"_

_Collins' smile didn't falter, but grew bigger and he nodded, kissing Angel again before moving off him. Angel turned onto his side and slid an arm over Collins' chest, and started tracing circles along his dark skin, and kissed just next to Collins' nipple. The professor in return held his arm around Angel's waist, stroking his lower back. Their naked bodies pressed firmly together with no intention of breaking apart, and silence overtook them for a bit. Seconds passed. Minutes. After around fifteen minutes of silence, and staring at the dark ceiling, Collins looked down to see Angel still staring up at the ceiling, looking somewhat confused or overwhelmed by something. He kissed his young lover who had faced so much this past year and together they pushed through it all, prevailing together with no regrets. Well, a few… but they were practically forgotten, and both refused to look back – only forward, to the future. Being so close to the end, where they could literally enough see and feel death approaching like a freight train, it was terrifying that they may not be together for a long time. But Angel promised he'd wait an eternity just to feel Collins' lips on his own once more, though he had come into acceptance more quickly than his lover – after all, he had no choice. Collins would be the one who'd have to face the rest of his life alone, not Angel, and Angel couldn't imagine what that would have to be like. He had his experiences with Nicholas and Erica, but with Collins… well, this was just gonna be one hell of a separation anxiety complex, to say the least. Even in death, Angel would not be at peace (he thought) until he had his Collins with him again._

"_Collins?"_

"_Yeah, honey?"_

"_I…" Angel closed his mouth so he could choke back down the lump forming in his throat. Oh God, not more tears. "I want you to… to love again, you know? I mean, if you find someone—"_

"_Angel," Collins sighed, shaking his head. They've had this discussion before. "We've talked about this. No one else will ever take my heart, not from you…"_

"_But--!"_

"_No buts. Angel, it won't be easy to let you go. And I won't …"_

_Angel decided not to pursue this conversation further, knowing that Collins knew his position, but because he didn't wanna talk about it, Angel didn't want to ruin the mood. There was no more time for fighting about these kinds of things, and a part of him was relieved with Collins' determines to stay faithfully, even through death and the separation. The only solace either of them could take was that it probably wouldn't be too long before Collins would join him in the afterlife, though Angel wanted him to live a long life and love the world as he did. He had made Collins promise that following his death, that he would not grow bitter and hate-filled… that he'd try to live and love life as best he could, and that they would be together again.  
Angel sat up a little and moved so he was lying on top of Collins, who was slightly shocked at this sudden change in position. Without another word spoken, Angel started kissing him and pressing his body hard against Collins', knowing it wouldn't take too much to get him aroused and in the mood for some hot lovin'. Collins needed no coaxing and in an instant he had rolled Angel over onto his back so he was in the controlling position of being on top, which was really the way they liked it, he pinned Angel's arms above his head and kissed him forcefully. Their breathing became deeper and more ragged as Collins moved his kisses down Angel's jaw line, down his neck and over the still very visible scar from when his throat was cut, and moved further down until he was lying comfortably between his lover's legs. He then let go of Angel's wrists and placed his hands at the sides of Angel's hips, while kissing his chest, down his sternum and very erotically let his tongue tease and play with his nipples. He heard Angel let out another gasp, a confirmation that he was doing the right thing, and proceeded to do what he was doing. He could feel Angel's excitement against his skin, another confirmation of his wonderful abilities to get him worked up, and Collins smirked. At that moment, all fears and urges he had to cry over Angel's impending death had now disappeared, to be replaced with the desire to satisfy Angel to the very last moment. _

Remembering that night that took place only two weeks before Angel's death, a tear finally escaped the hardened eyes that had clouded over any ability for someone to try reach out to Collins. Angel's dark brown casket sat there, under the tent to protect it from the rain; the flowers already beginning to wilt and die, as if they knew how disturbingly depressing this place was, the nature of their decorative value was nothing short of sadness. The others had tried to convince him to come home, before _he_ fell sick, but he didn't reply. He didn't move. He didn't do anything that would suggest he even noticed them, let alone heard there pleas.

"Why?" he whispered, not knowing who to. Probably God. If He had noticed. "Why my Angel? Why now? After everything…" he then stepped forward and knelt down at the casket, and burst into tears. He couldn't hold it any longer.

"Angel," he sobbed; his heart literally hurting from the stress it was under. "My Angel… baby, I can't do this… it's not fair…"

The rain started falling harder now, and still he was unfazed by it, or the distant rumbling of thunder that signaled the onset of the storm. It was growing colder, and darker, but Collins had no intention of going anywhere just yet. For as soon as he would leave, that casket would be lowered into the ground and it truly would be over… Collins wasn't ready to let his Angel go.

"_Tom…" Angel had weakly, from his hospital bed, beckoned his lover to come forth, and Collins was at his side in a microsecond. He held Angel's hand tightly, and kissed him._

_  
"Baby, I'm here… I'm here, Ang." He could tell Angel was started to leave him… the vivacious street drummer was sweating, and he had lost vision in his left eye. He was trembling and weak, and could barely string together coherent sentences or have the energy to talk at all. Everyone was in the room. Mimi, Roger, Mark, Maureen, Joanne, and even Benny… Angel wanted them all there in his final moments, though he chose to be lost in this moment with Collins. He inspected his lover to see Collins tearing up and shaking badly, so he managed to give him a loving, comforting smile as he stroked his cheek._

"_My love," Angel cooed, remaining as strong as he could. "Don't cry… don't be sad… our separation's only temporary, it won't last... we'll be together again…"_

_Collins opened his mouth to say something, but Angel shook his head._

"_Shh, honey, Shh… it's okay. Don't say anything, I know… I've loved you every second I've known you… and that love it won't die, you understand me? My body has expired, my love, it can't go on… but our love, what we have… it'll always be with you. And I'll wait forever and a day, baby. Forever." Angel was amazingly gifted at easing other people's pain, including his own sometimes, with the words of comfort he spoke, and Collins' heart began to ease a little, but the pain still lingered so badly. Mimi grabbed Roger's arm, who then embraced her, to keep from collapsing with grief, and Angel looked over to them._

"_You're all the loves of my life… I don't know what I did to deserve the gift God gave me… he gave me all of you. Even you, Benny," he added with a touch of humour. "No one else has given me more pleasure to torment then you. And that poor dog of yours."_

_Benny chuckled through his tears, and Maureen put her arm around his waist, and the other one linked with Joanne's arm. Angel then winked at them. "I love you. All of you. And I've been so lucky… so blessed… to have you all in my life… and I'm not going anywhere, I'll never leave you okay? Never." Angel then turned his attention back to Collins, who was barely holding himself together. Angel was slipping further away._

"_Oh honey," Angel kissed him. "Honey it's okay, you know? Everything will be okay… we'll be together again, you'll see… Everything we went through this year, it was all worth it. Your love kept me alive for longer than I should've been, and not a day went by I didn't thank God for you. You're my everything. My star in the heavens. My heart. My soul, it's you baby. I want you to live, okay? Live for me…live for us… live for our friends… and we'll be together again, I've never broken a promise to you my love, and I promise you… we're not ending." Collins couldn't contain the sobs anymore and he shook his head… this couldn't happen. Not now._

_  
"Angel—" he started._

"_Shh," Angel hushed him, pressing his index finger to Collins' lips to silence him, and winced as it got harder to speak. "Shh. Don't say anything. Whatever it is, Collins, I know it… don't speak. Do one thing for me though, okay? When it's all over… I wanna be buried with this," he reached over to the side table, but when he couldn't reach what he was looking for, Collins did it for him and picked up a photograph. It was of them all, on Christmas 1989. When Angel saw his confusion, he added, "I wanna take all of you with me… this will do… you'll make sure I take it with me, right?"_

_Collins wanted to protest and beg Angel to keep fighting, but it was useless. Angel was in the final stages of his life, at 24 years old, he was dying and they would be parted for God knows how long. He nodded and clutched the photo close to his chest._

"_Angel…" he cried. "My Angel… I love you." _

Angel gave him the most charming smile he could and winked again. "I'll be seeing ya later… I love you. I love you. I love you."

Collins gave him one last passionate kiss, the last time he would feel Angel respond to him, and when he pulled away, he opened his eyes and gasped. Angel's eyes had closed and he wasn't moving. He had gone.

A week later was Angel's funeral, and he was dressed in his most beautiful dress he had made him self, and Collins had made sure the photo went in with his lover just before they closed the casket, the final time he would ever see her. It was now pouring with rain, and Collins was drenched, but he still wasn't going to leave his Angel… the past week had been so surreal, and that first night sleeping was a nightmare, and he couldn't sleep in the same bed he had been in with Angel for so long. To not feel him beside him each night was excruciating. He kissed the casket. Two cemetery workers started to approach him, as visiting times were now over, but stopped when they saw him kneeling next to the casket. It was a truly heart-wrenching sight to be witnessing, and the workers often saw grief-stricken people given the place they worked at, but something about this guy was really sad. For Collins the world had ended. For everyone else, it was just another day.

Collins sobbed, resting his head on the end of the casket, wishing he could see his beloved just one last time before having to meet him in the next life. Angel was gone. The only thing that comforted Collins was the knowledge that Angel was no longer suffering, and he was safe. He couldn't be hurt again.

"Angel… Angel… Angel… my Angel…" he cried, blinded by anguish, and a small part of him hoping that Angel could hear him and would come back to him. What he had put Angel through was coming back to haunt him, wishing that they had those four months together instead of what happened.

"Sir?"

Collins jumped when he heard another voice, an unfamiliar one, behind him and he turned around to see a young man, around his age, standing there with another man both watching him with concern.

"Sir… are you okay? It's really pouring out here…"

"I'm fine," he muttered and stood up, wiping the dirt and water from his face, but it was a pathetic try as rain continued to beat down on him, and the weather picked up even more force.

"Sir, the cemetery visiting hours are now over, I'm so sorry… I—"

"I get it," Collins muttered and still didn't look at them, keeping his eyes on the casket… on his Angel. "Give me a few minutes."

The two men glanced at each other. "Sure," the second guy agreed and gave his colleague a light punch on the shoulder, silently telling him to back off and they started walking away, again leaving Collins alone to mourn. Angel had made him promise that he wouldn't be like this, and this was one promise that even he knew his lover wouldn't be able to keep. But it seemed like a good promise at the time, trying to comfort each other and prepare each other for the inevitable. Death. Everything had fallen apart again and only recently had things turned worse. Samuel had been acquitted of attempted murder after the police fucked up their investigation. He was out on the streets after serving three months for a probation offence. Julian had been convicted of conspiracy to commit murder and attempted murder in the first degree, regarding the second attack on Angel in the hospital. Angel, Collins, and Mark all had to testify in court (Mark about catching the confession on tape, and suffered a harsh cross examination by the defense attorneys who grilled him on his decision to send the tape to the media instead of the cops). For Angel, he broke down so many times, yet at other times seemed perfectly fine… even cheery. Collins had been angry. His anger was completely visible, and was cross examined about his relationship with Angel, cheating on Angel with Sam, and his relationship _with_ Sam… it was intense and harsh. And then Sam got acquitted… that was three months ago. Since then, he disappeared and none of the family of friends heard from him since, which was obviously a good thing, and Angel seemed to be dealing with it very well, though Collins remained cautious. And then of course, Julia… she was convicted of conspiracy to commit murder after she turned herself into the police, and naturally the rest of the gang were totally shocked. Especially Mark… he was devastated, understandably, and locked himself in the bathroom for two days and didn't come out. How could he be so stupid? Julia? That was hell for him.

And right now, all of this stress was the only things he could think of when it came to thinking of the possibilities as to why the disease decided to take Angel now. Angel had been under a lot of stress, a factor that contributes to the speeding up of the effects of the virus. But if Angel had been stressed, he never showed it… he became bright and bubbly again, thankful to be back in the arms of the one he loved and still have his friends to have fun with. Dancing around the loft with Maureen, or trying on new outfits of whacky and original designs with Mimi, or posing in front of the camera for Mark, or sitting on the floor listening to Roger play the songs he was able to finally write. Now, all of that didn't matter because Angel was dead while that punk Sammy AND Julian were both alive. Julian had, though, received a twenty-five to life sentence, while Julia was sentenced to ten years. Collins had made the effort to visit her once a week, but those visits had now turned into once every two weeks. Now that Angel was dead, he didn't see himself going back anytime soon, not because of her, but she'd just bring back up too many painful memories that he just didn't want.

"Angel…" he whispered, leaning down to touch the casket again. Angel's body would surely rot away at the same rate as any other human body going through the stages of decomposition, and it was an image that terrified Collins, though he couldn't erase it from his head. Angel's dead body wasting away to nothing. His eyes drying up. His soft lips turning to dust. His sweetly, silky Latino skin hardening and then falling apart. His organs bloating and then shriveling into nothing. And finally… Angel's physical being would become nothing.

"Baby… you have no idea what you've done to me, do you?" he bit his lip though smiled a little. "Everything… everything about you… you made me whole again. And… with you gone Home… and Sam walking free… I just don't get it, you know?" his throat constricted as he spoke, forcing him to stop for a brief moment. "I don't know _what _to do anymore… I thought that without you, I would be frozen. That the world would disappear, but it hasn't! Everything continues as normal – nothing happened. But for me, my whole world died with you and nothing fucking matters anymore." Collins stopped again and looked around, the rain limited his distance vision considerably. He took a step back.

"I love you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice shaky and his bottom lip quivering. He was shivering very badly in the cold and had to get inside before he got sick. "I'll always loves you… I'll see you later." After placing another kiss on the casket, he walked backwards a few feet, his eyes still locked on the where his lover lay. It was so hard to turn away, because it would mean that Collins would have to take those next real steps alone. Taking a deep breath before letting out a couple of sharp coughs, Collins wrapped his jacket around him tighter and closed his eyes and turned away. Once he was sure he was facing in the opposite direction from where Angel's freshly dug grave, he opened his eyes and exhaled and started walking. But he only got a few feet when he froze. There, standing not twenty feet away from him, was Samuel Michaels. Collins' heart started beating faster and faster, bashing itself against his ribs with so much force he actually grabbed at his chest and winced at the pain it was causing him. Sam was equally as nervous, and hesitated before stepping forward. The look on Collins' face was a mix of surprise, anger, confusion, betrayal and just total bewilderment, so it really didn't give Sam any comfort to what he was doing.

"Tom…" Sam tried to smile and keep things cool between them. "Hey… how you doing?"

No response. Sam shifted his weight.

"I um… I… I thought this was where you'd be."

Still nothing.

"How… how you holding up?"

Blank stare.

"I, uh," Sam broke eye contact. How could he look this man in the eyes now? His love for Collins knew no bounds, and now Angel was dead… as cold as it sounds, Sam wanted to be the one who lent him the shoulder to cry on. Yeah, like that was gonna happen. As fucked up as he was, Sam was still as narcissistic and selfish as always… and right now, was tripping on crack. The world was blurry, true, but only Collins' face was clear… the only clear image in his head. Was it the love? Or the crack? Fuck it, it was a mix of both. Sam staggered forward a bit, and almost lost his footing so he leaned against the side of a tree to maintain his balance.

Collins didn't know what to do. Attack him? No. That would solve nothing and wouldn't bring Angel back… besides, the place wasn't exactly conducive to settling old scores. He didn't want to hurt him. But he also did not want to be around him. At the risk of leaving a fucked up Samuel Michaels in close proximity to Angel's open, vulnerable grave and casket, where it could be desecrated and Angel could be violated in some way, Collins walked by him and felt his feet become heavier and heavier, like lead. Sam turned to watch him and suddenly felt depressed. This wasn't gonna be easy.

"Tommy!"

"What!" Collins yelled and turned around, giving a quick frustrated flail of his arms to signal is frustration. "What is it, Sammy? What the fuck do you want from me?" he was just giving up now. It wasn't worth the fight. Angel was dead. Nothing mattered anymore. Life was fucking over for him. Sam approached him… well, _staggered_ towards him. Collins didn't step back or attempt to put distance between them, because he just didn't care… and so he didn't care what happened now. The rain belted down, blinding them both to everything else but each other. Sam and Collins stood toe to toe.

"Tom… I'm sorry about Angel…"

Collins burst out laughing, with more than a hint of sarcasm evident. "Oh fuck!" he clasped his hands behind his neck and stretched. "Man, when you're good, you're GOOD!" he viciously taunted and turned his back to him again. Sam rolled his eyes and casually fingered the item he had hidden in his jacket – he was trying to reach out to his ex, and he was getting his efforts thrown back in his face? True, he did try to kill Angel on more than one occasion, but right now, because he was tripping, Sammy felt a little offended that his efforts weren't being treated with respect. After everything he had done to try prove his love to Collins, there was just no appreciation!

"Collins, come on! Can't we talk?"

"Talk! Three fucking years, Sammy and now you wanna _talk_?" Collins screamed through the harshness of the rain, and he didn't want to deal with Sam's bullshit anymore. What more did he have left to live for? His past kept coming back to haunt him even though Angel's dead, and it hurts too bad for him to give a shit anymore.

"What the fuck do you wanna say to me? The jury let you off, you WON! Okay? Angel's dead, and you're free! What more do you want from me?" Collins cried angrily, the last few words wavering with emotion, and Sam was silenced there and then. Collins was crying, though his tears couldn't be distinguished from the rain drops that rolled down his face… but Sam could see he was crying. The ex-lovers were staring each other down in the cemetery, only hours following Angel's funeral… there was no hate in either's eyes. Just anger. For entirely different reasons – Collins was angry that Angel was dead, not that Sam had the nerve to show up (he didn't care what Sam did now). Sam was angry that after everything he had done, none of it seemed to make one fucking bit of difference when it came to getting the love back from Collins, whom he still adored. But Collins was too pissed to back off now.

"I don't give a fuck WHAT YOU DO!" Collins screamed, and the rain just seemed to pound harder and harder, making it hard to see and hear. "I don't care anymore, Samuel! Seven months ago I would've loved to see you fucking rotting in the street, but now I couldn't really CARE LESS," he then started pacing back and forth, before he abandoned that and stormed over to Sam, took him by the shoulders and shook him hard.

"You have the nerve to show up on the day of my love's funeral? Fuck, Sammy! What'd you think was gonna happen? Julia is rotting in jail because of what you dragged her into! And you know what? I can't keep fighting you anymore, Sam! I can't keep hating you, I don't have the energy for it anymore, and I just want to FORGET you! I can't keep doing his, it's just not worth it… Angel's dead. And I might as well be, because the pain in my heart is something you could NEVER know about!" his voices was strained through the loud noise of the thunder and the rain. Sam glared.

"Whatever. You don't have the first clue about me—"

"Exactly!" Collins interrupted, with a slight maniacal glint. "I don't know you. I never did! And it took a hell of a lot to make me realize how much I wish I didn't know you. You're scum, Sam. You're nothing. I gave you everything and you destroyed it! Angel was my soul… the love he and I shared is more love than you could hope to feel in ten lifetimes!" Collins got even close to Sam, not releasing him from his vice-like grip. "You're inhuman, Sam," he spoke low. "You kill life. You know NOTHING of creating it… creating love… Angel was my world. I breathed him. I tasted him. I existed within him and he did with me and there's nothing you can say or do that will EVER get me to see you as anything but shit." Collins was angry for different reasons, and he had no trouble with putting it all on Sam, since Sam was really the cause of it all. Finally, he released his grip on the younger man, and Sam winced at the pain of being held so hard and was quickly feeling the rage. Anger, apparently, was transferable. No longer able to look at his ex without feeling the urge to throw up, Collins turned and walked away. _It's not worth it anymore_, was the only thing he could think. But Sam wasn't going to let him walk away the 'winner' again… he wasn't gonna let Collins get the better of him ever again. So, acting on a whim, he pulled out the gun out of his jacket pocket and started off after Collins who had his back to him. Sam was crying hysterically at this point and he was shaking badly… suddenly he had no control, and the fear was almost paralyzing though he pushed through it with relative ease because of the drugs releasing all his inhibitions and the drugs did, as Collins said, made him inhuman. A disgusting quality he would probably never be rid of. As he gained a faster pace, he approached Collins who still didn't turn back, apparently not noticing that he was being followed. Sam raised the gun and stopped, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Collins!" he called, tearfully. Collins stopped and sighed, dejectedly. He turned around. Big mistake. He barely had a chance to register that a deadly weapon was being pointed in his direction, when Sam pulled the trigger. Collins screamed when a fiery pain ripped through his stomach, and stumbled back, falling onto his back. Sam took one look at what he did and dropped the gun and sank to the ground, sobbing. He then crawled over to Collins who was already bleeding profusely and crying in pain… blood was covering him, and also seeping from his mouth. A kind of serene expression overtook him and he stared up at Sam in disbelief, and tried to speak but Sam had to lean down to hear what he was saying. The pain was excruciating and darkness was ensuing, everything was swirling and Collins then knew he was dying… right there, on the day of Angel's funeral… he was dying.

"Collins, baby I'm so sorry!" Sam screamed through the rain, but Collins could not hear him. Instead, he gazed up in the sky, muttering and battling the pain.

"A—" he choked, coughing up blood and groaning, clutching his stomach. Blood was everywhere, being diluted by the rain and tears, blood, and rain covered him. "A..A… Angel… Angel…." He looked at Sam, who was screaming something, but he was mute. Collins could hear nothing.

"An—Ang--- Angel… Angel… Angel…"

* * *

"ANGEL!" Collins screamed and bolted upright, panting heavily and his eyes frantically darted around the room in confusion. Wait a minute? What the hell was going on?_ Where am I?_ his mind screamed, demanding answers that were obviously hidden and even cryptic. What was going on here? Why couldn't he feel anything? Where was the pain? The blood? Sam? The cemetery? Collins was hyperventilating and started struggling, frantically flailing about in his panic, not knowing what was going on or what was happening. It took about thirty seconds of this before he realized something… he was in his bedroom! It was dark, and the only light there was came from the bedside lamp… noise was thumping from behind the closed door, and everything was still spinning. What was going on? Was it all just a dream? Everything seemed so real, what… the images of Angel's funeral were so much real that it was hard for Collins to make that determination whether it actually happened or not. Oh fuck.

"Collins, man!" a familiar voice came from his side, and then he felt an arm around his shoulders. A slightly more in-tune Collins looked up to see Mark sitting next to the bed staring at him intently, with so much worry and concern evident in his body language and face. Next to Mark, Roger and Mimi were the only other ones in the room and they had identical expressions on their faces, and Mimi covered her mouth to stop herself from crying out. Collins looked so distraught and stressed out, this wasn't doing any good for his health.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Tom, calm down!" Mark tried desperately to tame that wild look in Collins eyes who looked so terrified it was scaring them all! Collins was in bed, but got onto his knees and was trembling so badly that he almost collapsed back down again, and Roger rushed to his side, so Collins grabbed onto both him and Mark for support.

"What's going on!" he demanded and licked his lips, wanting answers right now. Mimi stepped forward.

"Um, Collins, honey you okay? You passed out for some reason… you like totally freaked for no reason and passed out, I—" she made an attempt to explain, but Collins wasn't listening. Obviously.

"It was a dream?" he whispered. "A dream?"

Mark looked up at the others, very concerned that Collins had indeed snapped. All that time he was unconscious, he was sobbing and calling out Angel's name and something about Sam. Why, he had no idea because it had been seven months and Sam had been convicted of two counts of attempted murder in the first degree, rape in the second degree, and assault in the first degree. He had been sentenced to life in prison, Collins, Angel and all of them were there the day he and Julian were sentenced – they both got life without parole. Why Collins was stressing about it now was beyond him. Julia had received a five year sentence for her role, in which she received a suspended sentence for her cooperation and testimony. Things had been getting back on track… and now this happened. Collins crawled off the bed and stood up, stumbling a little, but quickly regained his balance.

"I'm okay?" he physically inspected himself, not feeling any pain. "He didn't get me… he didn't get me…" Roger, Mark, and Mimi looked at each other knowing how bad this was getting. Collins, for some reason, could not remember what happened. Whatever he had been dreaming, it must've been pretty real, and it was. For Collins, it had been so real… from the moment he lost Angel, to the funeral, to getting _shot_! I mean what the hell was up with that?

"Whoa, shit..." Roger rounded the bed so he was on the other side of it, and stood with Collins. "Collins, what's going on? Who didn't get you?"

"Sam!" Collins screamed. "He was there… he was at the cemetery after Angel's funeral, it was a dream… he shot me!" his heart stopped. Angel. Fuck. Before any of his friends had a chance to react, he bolted to the door and threw it open, and was met with loud music and people dancing. People from the neighborhood. Fellow bohemians. A party. "ANGEL!" he shouted, pushing his way through the people, trying to find his lover. He didn't know what part of that dream, that _nightmare_ was based on reality and his experiences, and what part was an inner working of his mind. Was Angel dead? Where the hell was he?

After getting no initial response, he became even more high strung. Yes, it may seem like he had snapped, and he really had… but he honestly did not know where reality and imagination had drawn their lines. What happened? What made him pass out. As he frantically continued his search for his lover, or for ANY answers that could put him at ease, or at least let him know the truth. He was crying hysterically, but no one seemed to notice over the music.

"COLLINS!"

He turned around to see Maureen bound over to him and launch herself into his arms, kissing him and giggling.

"You woke up, honey! Welcome back to the land of the living."

"What happened?" He yelled. "Why did I pass out, what happened!"

"WHAT!"

"WHY DID I PASS OUT!"

Maureen paused. "You don't remember?"

"No!"

"You hit your head, darling! You were pissed off at Mark for sticking his little camera in your face and you fell over and knocked your head on the wall. Roger and Mark had to, like, carry you back to your room!" she explained. Collins was pretty sure she said some other things, but he couldn't hear her. As we all know Maureen, she has a short attention span so almost immediately something else had grabbed her attention and she bounced off to whatever it was. Collins resumed his search, just wanting to know where his Angel was.

"ANGEL!" he screamed, reaching the front door. "ANGEL!"

Angel was no where in sight. Collins was hysterical not knowing either way what happened; having little memory and not knowing what was true and what was false. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, he opened the front door and ran out into the main corridor, catching himself against the hand rail at the top of the stairs, catching his breath in between sobs. Everything wasn't making sense anymore and it was difficult to see anything straight. He had to get out of here. Something in the back of his head was telling him that Angel was in fact dead, he didn't know what it was… Angel would never leave a party and would never disappear without telling anyone, and Roger, Mark, Mimi, and Maureen would've told him if Angel wasn't here… however he didn't actually give him a chance to explain.

"Air," he gasped, fanning himself to incite some cool air over his face. Not getting what he needed, he grabbed the hand railing of the next flight of stairs and started climbing with any bit of energy he had left. He needed the roof. It seemed like forever until he reached the top, but in actuality it was only ten minutes. Almost on his hands and knees, collapsing from exhaustion and starting to feel a throbbing headache, from where he must have hit his head, he reached the door that led to the roof. Collins struggled to stand up and had to lean against the wall for support, and then turned the door handle and opened the door. He walked out onto the roof, and felt the immediate rush of icy cold air sweep over him. Snow covered the ground. Collins' tears were very cold against his skin and he shivered, but was getting air into his lungs and the claustrophobic feeling disappeared almost instantly. There was something relaxing about being up here – something comforting. He stepped further out into the cold winter air, and wrapped his arms around himself to preserve heat, and not to lose heat so quickly. Collins walked over to the ledge, and peered over the edge to streets below… people still walking about, going about their business – they looked so insignificant. Like ants. So tiny. He leaned against the wall and wiped his face of the cold moisture from the tears, and shivered.

"Where are you, my Angel?" he whispered, his words seemed to float on the air as a gentle breeze then brushed against him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Sing to me, my Angel… where are you?"

He wasn't expecting an answer. And he couldn't understand why he couldn't remember, probably a touch of amnesia… he couldn't remember what happened with Sam and Julian. And he certainly couldn't remember what happened with Angel. After only being awake for ten minutes, he still had no more answers than he started with… and still no closer to being with Angel.

But in the darkness, he did not see a pair of eyes focused directly on him… watching him with sadness.

"Angel," Collins cried. "Where are you? Where the fucking hell are you? Why can't I remember?"

The person stepped out the shadows, taking steps forward so that he was standing about ten feet. He opened his mouth.

"_Live in my house…_" his heavenly voice sang out. Collins froze. What? Angel smirked and debated whether to step forward or not. He decided to continued, knowing he had Collins' attention. _"I'll be your shelter…"_ he skipped forward two steps, and jumped up on one of the pipes, and Collins blinked multiple times.

"_Just pay me back, with one thousand kisses…"_

Finding a little bit of strength, Collins slowly turned around and his heart almost was caught in his throat when he saw his beautiful Angel posing on pipe, grinning at him and done up in all his drag queen glory. He was wearing a beautiful white mini skirt, white tights and white heels, and yes a white sweater. Angel was always wearing his favourite wig – the black, shoulder length one and his make-up highlighted his already gorgeous features. Collins stood there, stunned. Speechless. Angel jumped off the pimp and danced over to him, with so much energy and passion and Collins still was frozen in that one spot… he had so convinced himself that Angel was dead, considering he couldn't remember. Angel then stopped just in front of his lover, so happy that he was awake again… after seeing that initial bump to Collins' head, he had to get some fresh air from seeing the blood as Collins received a nasty little cut to his forehead. He and the professor had a nasty fight earlier that day and Angel had stormed out of their apartment so made… the argument was over something trivial, but it had left Angel in tears and Collins so pissed off that he just needed time away from him. Now, what a beautiful moment for reconciliation. Never was there a more romantic time than now. Angel's eyes met Collins', and that connected sent sparks through them once again… Angel slipped his hands into Collins' cold ones, and shivered at the initial contact, but it subsided. Angel leaned forward so that his face was inches from his lover's.

"_Be my loveeeer!"_ he sang, softly. "_And I'll… cover you..._" he trailed off into a barely audible whisper and fell silent. Collins started shaking again and whimpered. Angel's alive? Is he real? Angel then let go of one of Collins' hands and placed his fingers lightly on the cut that Collins had received from being knocked unconscious. Angel had fully recovered from his injuries after several months of pain staking physiotherapy, which Benny generously offered to pay for, and was finally getting his life back together. He was happy again. And in love. Collins stared into his boyfriend's expectant eyes, expecting him to continue the song that had joined them together almost two years ago… the song that had expressed all their feelings. He then placed his fingers on Collins' lips, wanting so badly to kiss them… but wanting to hear the words…

Collins licked his lips, wetting them as they had dried from the initial shock. Everything was starting to come back to him now as the sudden memory loss started to dissipate. The trials. The convictions. Sam is in jail, never to get out… it all came back so quickly. He didn't understand why he had such a realistic, yet horrific dream… and truth be told, he didn't want to understand it. The fight with Angel earlier that day also came back to him. Oh man. Finally…

"_Open your door,_" he sang so softly, maintaining eye contact and still in a state of disbelief and Angel's face lit up. "_I'll be your tenant…"_ Collins then pulled Angel closer to him and with his index and middle finger, he grazed Angel's cheek so lightly that he could barely feel them. But he could feel him.

"_Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet,"_ he sniffed and Angel warmly wiped his tears away for him. Nothing else existed but each other… they saw nothing else but each other's eyes. Their souls. "_But sweet kisses I've got to spare,_" he was getting choked up. "_I'll be there, and I'll cover you!"_

Angel burst into emotional giggles and found that he too was crying. This man was the love of his life and right now, he just wanted to pin him down and make beautiful love to him, feeling his body next to his. Collins managed to shake himself from the shock of seeing his Angel again, and started laughing, picking up Angel and spinning him around. After setting him down again, he pressed his lips against Angel's, and Angel responded just as ferociously.

"Oh honey," Angel gushed upon pulling apart. "I'm so sorry… I'm sorry for what happened earlier, it was stupid…"

Maybe now wasn't the time to tell him about the dream. Collins kissed his forehead. "Baby, it's okay… I'm the one who should be sorry. It's okay, I promise. How you feeling?"

"Amazing. Never better. Never stronger… and never more in love…"

"I got so scared, Ang," Collins confessed. "I was terrified… I woke up and at first I had so much trouble figuring out what was real and what wasn't… that dream was so real…"

"What dream?"

"It doesn't matter," Collins remarked. "It's over with now. Forget it. And I have to say… you look so beautiful, honey. An angel… my Angel…"

"Take me home," Angel grinned, jumping into Collins' arms, who was more than willing to oblige. "And… take advantage of me," he winked, kissing the professor's neck, and sucking on it erotically. Collins looked to the sky and mouthed the words 'thank you' for having this chance to have this beautiful person in his life. For this moment… it was all worth it. He was taking Angel home.

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_ IT'S OVER! It's REALLY OVER! AHHHHHHHH! How insane is this? I told you I'd screw with your heads and I DID! Trust me, I don't know what I was tripping on when I came up with the ideas for this chapter, but man I'm just happy it's over. It's been a wonderful journey and I've been so lucky to have some of the most loyal readers I've ever had. I just have people I wanna thank, who have given me such encouragement as a writer and my confidence has significantly grown. It took so long for me to bring this story into fruition and the response has been overwhelming. Thank you so much. Here is a list of people in no particular order:**

**Phoenix-Satori – DAINA! I love you, girl, you are a TRUE INSPIRATION to me and have been such an enormous help. I honestly believe this story wouldn't have been as well done if it weren't for your continuous reading and feedback and ideas. I love you! I swear, you are a great friend and was always so supportive of me when I wanted to quit writing and through all the personal shit I've gone through, you've always been a great friend. So I can forgive you for being a New Zealander. LOL! Just kidding! BIG HUGS**

_**Alice Midnight**_

_**L.M. Ward**_

_**Marauding-siriusly**_

_**Kelsey**_

_**To No Absolutes**_

_**Just Ella**_

_**Eponine Poe**_

_**LLPotter**_

_**Angelover609**_

_**Lesley**_

_**Abby**_

_**BOWIEgirl**_

_**I'm sorry if I've missed anyone, but I was writing this while nursing a hangover. So forgive me, but I love everyone who reviewed, gave me advice, and stuck with me through the hardest of times when writing this. This truly has been the most difficult story I've ever written. THANK YOU SO MUCH! **_

GROUP HUG! hugs everyone

_**I am considering doing a sequel! Any ideas would be welcome**_

_**Thanks so much again! I can't believe it's over! WOOT! WOOT!**_


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